


Blood of the Doctor

by TimeLadyoftheSith



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crossed Timelines, F/M, Married Smut, References to DW Project: Twilight, Telepathy, Temporary Amnesia, Time Lady Rose, Vampires (Whoverse), dark!Doctor, marriage bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-11-27 23:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLadyoftheSith/pseuds/TimeLadyoftheSith
Summary: Vampires were real, and it was the Time Lords’ fault. With all of humanity at stake, the Doctor tells Rose he knows of a cure, and where to find it. It all seemed so simple, but then it all went wrong. Reeling with the loss of her Bond to the Doctor, Rose heads for the TARDIS, for the vaccine stored there for centuries. Then it all went wrong again.The Doctor is letting his TARDIS rest after the events of the Master opening the Eye of Harmony, when his peace and quiet is interrupted in a rather startling manner. Who is this blonde woman unconscious on his console room floor? What is she? More importantly, why is she mumbling his true name in her sleep?





	1. Prologue

Rose was running. She didn’t think she’d ever run so fast in her life. Her goal was the TARDIS, and it wasn’t because it meant safety for her. It was because it meant safety for the Earth, for the entire cosmos, for all of reality, for even the smallest bacteria in the darkest pond on the tiniest moon. Everything had gone wrong, and she didn’t understand how or why. She just knew, as the Doctor stumbled out of that room just as she kicked the unconscious guard she’d walloped with a fire extinguisher out of the way, that something was wrong.   
  
“Rose-“ He’d gasped, orangish tinted blood trickling from the corner of his lips. “Rose....” he’d cupped her face, eyes glassy, pupils blazed so wide they were obliterating the rich, caramel chocolate Irises that she loved so much. “TARDIS...lab seven, cabinet Zed.” He’d sucked in a rasping breath, his nails biting into her scalp. She felt the blood trickle. “Twilight Vaccine.” Then he’d collapsed.   
  
“What’s happening?!” She had shouted, kneeling beside him, and she had shaken him fiercely. “Doctor!” He didn’t reply. So she had shouted his name in Gallifreyan, and his eyes had split open.   
  
“Run!” The Doctor had croaked. He’d shoved her away, and their marriage bond flashed blood red and began to burn. He was screaming in agony across it, and then, it went silent. For one horrifying moment, Rose had feared he was dead. Then he’d drawn a deep breath, opened his eyes again, and Rose saw it. She’d known without any doubt, the man staring at her, lips curling back in a feral sneer, wasn’t the Doctor. He was something else, something deadly, something that could snuff out all of reality without a second thought. So, she’d run.   
  
She didn’t know where she was going. This part of London was unfamiliar to her, not just geographically but also chronologically. This was London, late nineteen eighties, and everything was strange. They had landed at night, just twenty hours before, in a dark alley, but where? How long had she been running? Rose was still mastering all the aspects of being whatever she was, whatever the TARDIS had made her.   
  
She wasn’t quite a Time Lady, nor was she human. A new species the Doctor had called her, but they hadn’t bothered classifying her. How exactly did one classify someone who was as Time Sensitive as a Time Lord, aged at a ridiculously slow rate, had become Telepathic, but still had all the The aspects emotions, and urges of a human? Right, and her mind had expanded, but she was still learning not to be distracted by the hundred tangents her brain could run at once. A shadow of blue drew her back to her pounding feet on the pavement.   
  
“Yes!” Rose screamed, elation flowing up with the panic. She leaped over the stray cat lounging at the mouth of the alley, didn’t miss a step as she landed in the puddle of muck and oil, and she slammed her palm into the blue, wooden door. The TARDIS squealed in alarm in her mind, a brilliant, whirring hum of shock. “Not now!” She bellowed at the ship, sprinting across the rug, dodging the massive armchair.   
  
Her mind, so focused on getting to the lab corridor, registered that they didn’t have a rug, or arm chairs, or a record player in their console room about seventy three milliseconds too late. The TARDIS roared in fury and confusion in her mind, and the heavy, wooden globe went flying into her head before she could duck. As she collapsed to the floor, she felt and heard the smug hum of satisfaction as a voice broke the audible silence of the room.   
  
“I said stop her! Not knock her unconscious!” The hardwood met the back of Rose’s head with a resounding crack. “Well you better hope you didn’t give her brain damage! I swear, since the Master opened your eye of Harmony, you’ve been a right grump!” Cool fingers pressed against her cheek as steel grey eyes hovered over her. Then the world went dark.   



	2. The Search for a Name

“She’s rather pretty.” The Doctor considered the woman unconscious in front of him. She had chemically blonde hair with a hint of darker blonde, or maybe light brown it was hard to tell in the dim console room lights, roots showing. Judging by the length, two months worth of growth had occurred since she’d last dyed it. Her mouth would have been too wide, too pouty, if her face was just a bit thinner. As it was, it suited her high cheekbones and proud jaw quite nicely. Her nose added a delicate, slightly upturned, button of balance to it all her primly plucked, but still naturally arched eyebrows were relaxed, and as he took her in, he realized she didn’t look much older than nineteen, but definitely not over twenty five.   
  
“Young, hmmm.” He leaned forward, pressing his fingers to her neck. It was a rather elegant neck, even if it was strained from her head lolling to the side. Her single heart rate thrummed easily under his fingers. “Human?” Looks could be deceiving. The TARDIS remained snobbishly silent. “Oh, stop sulking. You deserved that chastisement, and you know it!” He reached over to his armchair, where his coat was draped over an arm, and dig his screwdriver out. He whirred it over her body, listening to the high pitched sonic waves as they confirmed she was, indeed, physically human.   
  
“Yep, human.” Then, the readings went chaotic, screeching wild strings of incomprehensible data that stabbed at his ears. “What the hell?!” He shut the device off, shoving it into the pocket of his waistcoat with his watch. “And not human. Did that make any sense to you, old girl?” The TARDIS gave the telepathic equivalent of a disdainful sniff and refused to answer. “I’m sorry she interrupted your nap, but if you’d scanned her before dropping that globe on her head, you would have seen she has blood on her hands and shirt!”   
  
Okay, so he hadn’t noticed it until just now, but still. His ship was the only thing in the universe that could process data faster than his brain. Romana liked to pretend she could, but, well, he knew better. He lifted her left hand up to examine it, a bit surprised to find a beautiful wedding set on her finger. The wedding band itself was a simple row of sapphires, TARDIS blue under the sticky blood that coated them, set into the purest quality of Earth’s white gold he’d ever seen, and he’d helped design some of England’s Crown Jewels. The engagement ring, however, was dwarf star platinum, and sitting brilliantly in the center, raised up enough to be noticed but not enough to make gloves uncomfortable was a single White Point Star Diamond. “Well well, your husband’s got friends in High Council places. Or is it your wife?”   
  
That was odd though. The Doctor knew he was the only Time Lord, besides Romana, who enjoyed the company of humans. That wasn’t even a possibility, because the Doctor knew that he would have been invited to that wedding. “So who are you, and why did you run onto my TARDIS like you owned it? Hmm?” As gently as he could, the Doctor scooped the girl into his arms. Then it struck him, why he had looked at her hand before being distracted by the wedding set. Then he remembered how just three days ago a police man had inadvertently ridden a motorbike into his TARDIS and right back out. Perhaps she was just looking for a place to hide.   
  
He contemplated taking her to a human hospital, but what if whoever had been chasing her tracked her down? Then again, if her scans had sent his sonic mental, what would they do to the primitive equipment of nineteen eighty six London? The Doctor glanced towards the doors, then to the hall, then the doors again. “Well, blondie, you got knocked out in the right place.” He carried her carefully into the corridor to the infirmary, rolling his eyes at the way his TARDIS was skulking deep in her matrix. “I’m sorry she woke you up from your nap. Go back to sleep, while I fix her up.” With a rude noise, the TARDIS dropped into the low standby hum of her sleep.   
  
In the infirmary, the Doctor laid the woman on the exam table. He eased her red jacket off, taking immense care not to jostle her head, and checked the pockets for an ID. “What in the Cloisters?” He blinked as he produced a familiar, leather wallet. Except, instead of black, it was The color of pink tea roses with an embossed wolf’s head on the top flap. Opening it, he blinked as the words flickered onto the psychic paper.   
  
**Nosey**.

It read. Tucked behind the bottom sheet was a photo. He tugged it out, smiling slightly at the image. It was the woman, in front of a Christmas tree, with a tall, skinny, rather bookish looking man in a pinstriped suit who was holding her tightly and smiling down at her like a lovesick puppy dog. On his left hand, was a simple, gold and black band. The room around them looked surprisingly like an London estate flat.   
  
“You have no idea.” The Doctor tossed it aside, responding to how the psychic paper had begun repeating the word Nosey, over and over. He began digging into the other pocket only to find a mobile phone akin to the early two-thousands, a coin bag, and a plain silver key on a chain. Except, it wasn’t any key. It was warm, hummed with energy, but when he tried to touch it, it zapped him with unmistakable jolts of Artron energy. “A TARDIS key? Well, that is surprising. How are you?”   
  
His intruder turner patient remained impassively silent. “Sorry, but I can’t exactly get permission. I hope your husband isn’t a punching type man. He doesn’t look it.” With that, he tucked his fingers in her front pockets, but they were empty. Rolling her gently, he found her back pockets empty as well. “Guess I should have known you wouldn’t carry an ID if you have psychic paper.”   
  
At a roadblock with her identity, the Doctor walked over to the body scan machine, pushed it swiftly to clink to a stop beside her bed. He followed that up with an IV pole, dug a bag of saline from a drawer, and walked back over to swab her elbow.  He did that one handed, as he activated an full anatomical scan from her smallest atom down to her highest brain wave. After he hooked the IV bag up, he donned some sterile gloves to check the bumps on her head. The one from   
The globe had looked like it was bleeding, now that he had her under the harsh examine lights.   
  
“You have got to be kidding me.” Surprise and shock waved through him as he found the lump had, indeed, split and soaked the surrounding hair in blood. However, the lump was smaller than it should have been, and the scab over the split appeared to be two days old. “What are you?” The Doctor lifted her up, cradling her chest against his arm while he eased her hair apart in the back. There was a lump there too, but it was shrinking under his fingers. It wasn’t a fast shrinkage, but noticeable to his enhanced senses.   
  
“This is unbelievable.” He settled her tenderly back onto the pillow, and then he turned to the screen for the bodyscan. “One heart, two lungs, two kidneys, two ovaries, hmmm with an ovulation cyst forming on the left, better take your pill.” He cocked his head to the side. “One uterus, one bladder, one liver, spine, ribs, nervous system, hang on...” The Doctor stood up and pulled the screen closer to him. “Is that a respiratory bypass system?!” He pressed refresh on the image, squinting at the set of brachial tubes that were situated between her lungs. “But that’s unique to Time Lords! What are you?” He whipped his head around to gape at the unconscious woman. Then the scanner started beeping out in muave lights. “What now? By the stars.” He stared at the new data scrolling on the screen.   
  
Every atom in the woman’s body was infused with Artron energy, not bathed in it, but actually fused with it. The DNA structures had formed a third helix, but it wasn’t made of the proteins found in Time Lords or some other species. It was literally made of Artron energy. “Did your mum go for a jaunt in the Vortex when she was pregnant?” There was no response to his sarcastic tone. The beeping got louder as it turned to her brain. Genetically and structurally, her brain was human. However, it was throwing off Alpha, Beta, and Delta waves equivalent to an adolescent Time Lord in addition to all the normal human levels. “Where you an experiment?” That had to be it. “Which nasty Time Lord stole you from your husband? Or do they have him too?”   
  
The woman didn’t answer, but she did move. Her index finger lifted, and her eyelids fluttered. Then she grew still again. The Doctor moved back over to her bed, and he took her hand softly in his. “Shhh, you’re safe. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m the Doctor. I’m going to keep you safe.”   
  
The woman’s lips parted, and a trickle of gold energy slipped out. The Doctor sucked in a breath, because it looked almost like regeneration energy. It would have looked exactly like it, if it didn’t turn to white light. Then, she spoke, her voice so soft anyone without Time Lord hearing would have missed it. The syllables rolled off her lips in the lyrical strain of Gallifreyan, and the Doctor felt his hearts stopped. This woman, this strange, impossible woman, had breathed his name, his real name. “Who are you?” He swallowed, yanking his hand away, and she grew still once more.   
  
Across London, in an underground room the size of a school auditorium a man stood smirking at the woman curled up in a fetal position jibbering nonsense. Five others, two women and three men, were kneeling, quivering in fear, their heads bent. “Pathetic.” The man scoffed, and he kicked the woman in the spine before stepping over her. “The lot of you! You’re all pathetic! This was your leader? Seriously?” He sniffed as they stayed silent. “No wonder you’ve been failing at every turn! Well, that changes now! I’m taking over.” He reached down to fist the hair of the blonde man shaking in front of him. With a hiss, he yanked his head up. “And if anyone has any ideas about trying to depose me, well.” He dragged the word out, chuckling as the man swallowed. “I’ll just take a lovely little waltz through their minds like I did Vera’s. Understand?”   
  
“Yes, Doctor.”   
  
“No!” The man jerked the pathetic worm up and snarled in his face. “The Doctor is dead. He was weak. I’m stronger, smarter, better. I need a new name.” He watched in amusement as the worm blinked the spittle from his eyes. “What kind of idiotic name is the Doctor anyways? A self appointed title, a misguided arrogant assumption that he could fix the universe.”   
  
“I d-d-don’t know, my Lord.” The worm’s accent was distinctively southern Welsh. A wild idea darkened his mind, making him smile. The man liked this idea. He liked it very, very much.   
  
“Not Lord, no.” He released the man’s hair and smoothed his shirt with a gentle touch. “Tell me, Worm, what does Emyr mean?”   
  
“King, or maybe Ruler, w-why-“   
  
The man placed a finger over his lips. “Shut up, Worm, I’m thinking.” King, he liked that, but he was more than just a sniveling mortal monarch. He had once named himself Lord of Time, and he had no intentions of limiting himself to this single, feeble, backwater rock and century. He could go anywhere, anytime. He was the King of Time, and nobody could stop him. “My name is Emyr Chronos. You may address me as your liege.” With this, he shoved the man away and straightened his tie with a deep breath.   
  
“Yes, my Liege.” All five murmured.   
  
“Good, now, your King is hungry. Someone fetch me a meal.”   
  
“My liege.” The brunette woman with a trace of a Russian accent spoke cautiously. “The woman that was with you, your wife. She freed the donors while Vera was occupied with your transformation.” Emyr spun on his heel to face her, rage and annoyance flaring in his veins. “All we have left are the bags of blood in the kitchens.” Then his annoyance faded into bemused pride, and he let it bubble out in a light chuckle.   
  
“Ah, yes, she’s quite resourceful that way. I should have guessed she’d have done that.” He curled his finger under the woman’s chin, raising her up. She wasn’t nearly as lovely as Rose, but she was still quite pretty. She was also clever, which is why Vera had appointed her as head of the intelligence network. “Your name, it isn’t Victoria anymore. I’ll give you a new one later. Right now, I’m going to call you Servant One.” He reached out to trail one of his hardened nails along her pale temple. “And Servant one, I want you to find someone to bring me a jug of blood, a goblet, and a banana split with extra whip cream.”   
  
“Yes, my Liege.” Servant One swallowed, her voice trembling as she avoided his eyes.   
  
“Good girl.” Leaning forward, he pressed a featherlight kiss to her brow. She squeaked. “Now now, don’t get any ideas. You are nothing compared to my wife, and I would never dishonor my vows to her.” Releasing her, Emyr stepped back and clapped his hands. “Servants Two, Three, and four, on your feet!” The other three bowing snivelers scrambled to their feet, pointedly avoiding their gaze. He pointed at the dark skinned man. “Servant Two, take Servant Four.” He jabbed his finger at the ginger woman. “And anyone else of your choosing to the alley between Jackson’s Pub and Hidden Garden’s bookshop. You’ll need a flatbed truck. There you’ll find a blue box marked Police. Load it up and bring it back.” They blinked in confusion. “GO NOW!” They fled the room.   
  
“Servant Three, take Worm and go order our acquisitions people to track down some new humans to stock our larder.” They were gone in an instant, leaving him alone in the room. “Now, let’s try this again.”   
  
Closing his eyes Emyr reached out with his mind, feeling for the warm, sweet, familiar tingle of Rose’s mind. Just as it had before, the link was dead. It was there, a tangible point in his mind, but it held no tingle, no surge of emotions, none of that delicious flavor of his wife’s unique and glorious existence. She wasn’t dead. Emyr would have felt that. It would have sent out a time distortion he could not have missed. “Maybe it’s because she’s bound to the Time Lord.” He growled, as his mind accepted the possibility. “I’m not him, anymore. I’m better. I’m so much more!”   
  
Vera whimpered from her spot, disturbing his contemplations. He had forgotten she was there. Blowing out a breath of irritation, he grabbed her by the ankle, dragged her to the door, and tossed her into the hall. “Drain her and dispose of the corpse.” He ordered the armed men there. Then he prowled his way back to the ornate chair he had found Vera seated in.   
  
He eased himself into it, reaching out once again with his thoughts. Rose was still unattainable. “Not for long, though.” He bit his lip, humming as his sharpened teeth nicked the skin, and he licked the blood with a smile. “Soon, my love, you’ll be like me. You’ll be with me, my Goddess of Time once more.” He glanced at the empty space beside his seat. “You’re going to need a throne.”   
  
  



	3. Bad Wolf Awakens

“Are you waking up?” The voice was so warm, rich with concern. Cool fingers brushed her brow, but she couldn’t reply. She couldn’t open her eyes. Something was wrong, something in her mind. No, not wrong, missing. It wasn’t something. It was someone. “Your heart rate is elevating, and your brain waves are spiking. I know you can hear me.” His voice was so nice. It was also vaguely familiar, like a voice heard in the memory of someone else’s dream. That shouldn’t make sense, but it did. “No, don’t struggle. There’s a love. Just open your eyes.”   
  
She didn’t know how. Everything was wrong. Where was she? Why was she? More importantly, who was she? There was a name, an important name, it was floating around the not right spot in her mind. The spot burned when she concentrated on it, like touching a nine volt battery to her tongue. “Come on, I know you’re in there. You’re safe. I promise.” Cool fingers again brushed her cheek, and that voice soaked into her ears. It slinked into her thoughts, melting into them, like whipcream infusing into hot coco. “What’s your name?”   
  
She didn’t know. She didn’t know anymore. She was looking for something, for something important. That name, that beautiful, wonderful brilliant name was stirred by the voice. She could almost see them in the dark, circling each other, like two wolves meeting again for the first time in years. Was that her name? She opened her mouth, letting the beautiful music like syllables slide from her tongue. The fingers paused, trembling against her brow. “No, your name. What’s your name?”   
  
Someone whimpered, a pained, lost, broken noise that made her heart hurt. Vaguely she realized it was her. She whimpered. “No, nononono, don’t cry. Don’t cry.” Something hot and wet trickled down her face, and then something soft and gentle wiped it away. “You aren’t showing any signs of physical pain. Where does it hurt?”   
  
“Mind. Burning. Broken.” Someone spoke, a woman, her voice cracking and dry. It was so sad, so, so sad. It was her. She was speaking. Her mind wasn’t burning anymore, but it was broken. It hurt.   
  
“Your mind? Your mind hurts? It’s burning? It’s broken?” The chocolate, whip cream voice spoke quickly now, and it soothed her some. She tried to find words again, but the only thought that didn’t hurt was that beautiful name. She realized, disjointedly, that the name was sad. It wasn’t a sad name. The name itself was circling the not right spot, nuzzling it, trying to reach into it. It couldn’t, and that made it sad. It touched her tongue, using it to call out, to find its home. “Where did you learn that name? Please, look at me.”   
  
“Broken. Broken.” The woman who was her whimpered again, and she tried to make her open her eyes. It was too bright, so she closed them as soon as they barely parted. It hurt too much, and she didn’t understand. She didn’t even know who she was. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know why she was. Why she was? That made no sense, but it made more sense than it made no sense. “Lost.”   
  
“Okay.” The soothing voice spoke again, softly, with a resigned tone that sounded slightly with dread. “Listen, darling, I’m a telepath. I’m going to just take a quick dip into your thoughts and see what is hurting you. Is that okay?” Those cool fingers framed her face, two on each temple, one just in front of each ear, and two curled against her jaw. This! This! She knew this! This was familiar. This was safe. This was love. “No, don’t move. I need you to relax. Shhhh, relax for me.”   
  
Had she been moving? She realized her arms had lifted, reaching, blocked by the soft material of sleeves. Why? Why had she been reaching? The name swirled in her mind, lost, looking for its home in her burnt, broken spot. It used her tongue again, calling out, searching. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Then, that rich chocolate whip cream voice was inside of her, and the name tolled out in longing.   
  
Without warning, her mind blazed. From the shadows around the not right spot came a furious howl. It lashed out, filling the dark shadows of her burnt mind like a golden bomb. The hot chocolate whip cream thoughts balked back, but behind the golden fire, the beautiful, sad, lost name sang out. The hot chocolate whip cream thoughts surged forward, colliding with the golden fire, not in an attempt to overpower, but in an attempt to pacify. She felt it spill across the fire, poking, prodding tenderly, stroking the dimmer spots.   
  
The beautiful, sad name sang again, a melody of recognition, a battle worn soldier seeing his home at the end of a street. The golden light burned brighter, condensing, shrinking, shifting. A wolf shimmered bright, standing strong in front of the name, hackles raised. The wolf growled a warning at the hot chocolate whip cream thoughts, as they edged closer to the not right, burned spot and the sad name. No, she was growling. She felt it vibrate in her throat, felt the man’s double heart beat thudding out a four count tattoo against where her fingers had seized his shirt.   
  
“I am the Bad Wolf!” She howled, and the man’s cool fingers pressed tighter. Soft silk brushed her brow, and cool, tea flavored air broke across her nose and lips. “Destroyer of Daleks, Heart of the TARDIS, and Goddess of Time.”   
  
“You had me at Destroyer of Daleks.” The man’s lips brushed her nose, as tea flavored air filled her nostrils, cool skin pressed against her brow, and hot chocolate whip cream thoughts reached out to stroke the wolf. “I’m the Doctor.”   
  
“Doctor?” She spoke the words as the golden energy light wolf gave a whine and ceased its snarling. The sad, beautiful name curled around it, humming in recognition, and together they surged forward, plunging into the hot chocolate, whip cream thoughts. The man called Doctor gasped, and the Goddess of Time pressed her lips to his with a sob of relief as the spot blazed bright, mending, healing, growing stronger. Rose Marion Tyler-Lungbarrow opened her eyes, and stared up into the face of a husband who looked at her like a stranger.   
  
“Well shite.” The Doctor blinked down at the woman who had just given him a telepathic showdown that would put Rassilon to shame, kissed him, and forged a marriage bond with him in the span of six minutes. He pulled back, speechless as his mind scrambled to try accommodate the wave of thoughts and emotions that were bursting over the marriage bond. “Oh my head. What the hell did you hit me with?”   
  
“I didn’t. The TARDIS threw dropped a globe on your head, and then you hit the floor.” He scrambled back off the bed, groaning as her pain waved across the bond and throbbed dully. “Do you mind shielding your end? I can’t think!” He pressed his fingers to his temples, as he felt her try to erect a barrier on her end of the bond. She was struggling, and it made his hearts twinge.   
  
“Doctor, I... I can’. My mind’s not workin’ right.” He opened his eyes, watching as she covered her face and rolled over to curl in on herself. “‘M sorry. ‘M sorry.” The words rolled across the bond, thick with confusion and loss. “It hurts when I try.” Like a lure, her pain and grief drew him back to the bed. Who was she? How had she forged a marriage bond in a single thought? How did she know his name? He didn’t know her.   
  
“Which me did you come from?” He spoke the question as he found the explanation. Whoever she was, this Bad Wolf, this Destroyer of Daleks, this teary eyed anomaly of a woman blinking up at him with devastation on her face and in her heart, she was from his future. Somewhere and somewhen in his upcoming lives, she knew him, loved him, and he had loved and trusted her in return. “Okay, let me make it easier. This is my eighth body. Which one were you bonded to?”   
  
“I don’... Doctor. I don’ remember.” Her voice broke, as her tears coated her face, glistening with a slight gold tint. He sighed, as she scrunched her face. Another wave of mental and physical pain rolled through to him. “Ninth, maybe.” He reached out to try to calm her, make her stop pulling at her hair. “Tenth? I don’ know. He doesn’ like to number them. You don’ like to number them.”   
  
“That is the truth.” She gave a wet cough, as her stunning, amber eyes gazed up at him, and he could feel her searching his mind and eyes for an answer to a question she couldn’t get straight. Underneath it all was a love so powerful, so strong and unconditional, and it was directed at him. He felt it vibrate through him, echoing back over his past, surging forward into his future. Whoever she was, she belonged to him, mind, body, and soul. “What’s your name?”   
  
  
“Rose.” It was such a simple name, but it was also so beautiful. It suited her perfectly, though it made a strange juxtaposition to the titles she had howled into his mind and lips. “Rose Marion Tyler-Lungbarrow. I’m your wife.”   
  
“It would seem so.” The Doctor didn’t know exactly what to do with this, and he didn’t like not knowing what to do. So, he’d do what he did best, be a Doctor. “Okay, so I don’t understand your physiology. If I’m going to give you something for your headache, I need to know what your body can process.”   
  
“Anythin’ works, ‘cept aspirin. Developed an allergy to it, after...” Her voice trailed off, and he knew that look in her eyes. He’d know it on any time traveler. It was the look that said ‘It’s in your future. You’ll see.’ “I became this.” Her pain washed through the bond again, as she curled back in on herself. “You usually give me some blue film thing from the eighty-second century when I get banged up.”   
  
“This?” The Doctor crossed to the cabinet where he kept the non-narcotic pain medicines and fever reducers. He pulled out the thin container, holding it up to show Rose. She nodded once, and the pain throbbed again through the bond. “Okay.” He also grabbed a cup, filling it with cold water, dropped in a straw, and moved back to her side. “Can you sit up?”   
  
“I think so.” Rose uncurled, pushing herself up. The Doctor felt her wave of pain and dizziness a breath before she swayed, and he caught her with one arm. “Thanks.” She whimpered, leaning into him and sniffling. Her lips parted, as if waiting, and the Doctor opened the package. He dropped the film on her tongue, and it felt like an oddly intimate thing to do for a stranger. The gesture, however, filled Rose with a wave of familiar relief. “Blech, water.”   
  
“Here.” The Doctor tried to press the cup into her hands, but they were trembling quite fiercely. So he sat down beside her on the bed and lifted the straw to her lips. It was an odd sensation, feeling how this was all received by her with rippling comfort of affection when it did not have the same effect on him. Disappointment flashed through the bond, as she sipped. “Sorry, I don’t exactly know how to block a marriage bond either.”   
  
“You still don’, well, not very well.” Rose turned her face from the straw, as she sagged into him. “‘Nd I know you don’ know me, ‘nd don’ love me, yet. But, Doctor....” Her eyes looked up at him, and they were filled with so much confusion. “I think you’re in danger.” Her voice cracked, and though her warm weight was leaning heavily against his arm, she crumpled. He grabbed her softly, fully intending to ease her back down, but Rose threw her arms around him. “Please, jus’ hold me. Jus’ for a bit. I can’.... I need to feel you.”   
  
She was a stranger now, but she was also his wife. The emotional agony that was billowing through her was breaking his hearts. Rose was powerful, that much he knew, but at that moment she was as vulnerable as any sentient being could be. “I’m here, shush, my Rose. I’m here.” Somehow, wrapping his arms around her and turning to lean back into the pillows where she had lain came naturally. It was as if she had been made for his arms to curl perfectly around her waist, for her legs to tangle with his, and for her face to snuggle into the crook where his neck met his shoulder. “I’m here, darling. I’m here. You’re safe, in the TARDIS. I’ve got you.”   
  
“He’s lost. I don’t know where or how, but Doctor. You’re lost.” Rose clung tightly to her husband that didn’t know her. It was killing her inside, breaking her heart to see him look at her without the love she’d almost died to save. Yet, he was still the Doctor, her husband, her bondmate. His arms still felt right around her. Her soul still reveled at the soothing stroke of his thoughts in her mind. “I have to remember. He said... you said...” Trying to remember hurt. It hurt so much. “To run to the TARDIS. You never tell me to run.”   
  
“Because we don’t run away. We stand up.” The Doctor murmured into her hair, as he stroked her back with unfamiliar yet perfect touches. “What are you, Rose? How did you become this? How did you open a locked TARDIS door? Why is my TARDIS afraid of you?”   
  
Rose knew she shouldn’t tell him. It may change everything, but then, hadn’t she done it already by accidentally forging the bond before its time? Swallowing back another sob, she lifted her face from his neck to gaze into the blue eyes above her. It struck her, then, in that moment, how young they looked. This Doctor was so young, and, then she felt why. The guilt, that soul eating, all consuming guilt that only she could soothe in her Doctor’s hearts was not there.   
  
This Doctor was from before the war, before the barn, before the choice that would change him to his very foundation. She found she loved him just the same. Rose took that foreknowledge, locked it as deep as she could, buried it along side the spot where she kept his name. Then she drew in a breath, let the Bad Wolf rise into her eyes, felt Time herself flow into her eyes, tickle the bond briefly, and she murmured. “I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me.”   
  
The Doctor gaped in wonder as Rose’s eyes glowed a terrifyingly beautiful gold. Her voice vibrated with the same frequency as the TARDIS’ matrix, and he understood. He understood what she was, why she wasn’t human or Time Lord, why her very presence made his TARDIS uncomfortable. She carried a part of the TARDIS’ soul inside of her. “Why? Why would you do that?”   
  
“Because, I had no choice.” Rose sighed, and the glow was gone. She was pale and crying in his arms. Then she tensed, as if hearing something, and he was reminded of a mother wolf guarding her cubs. “Oh no you don’t!” Her eyes snapped shut, and he felt his mind burn as she mentally snarled  in a protective rage. Faintly, like a dream of an echo, he heard the sound of a TARDIS engine whirring to life, and it thrummed out the whorp of dematerializing through the bond. It wasn’t the one they were in, but he knew that sound.   
  
“What happened? What was that?”   
  
“I don’ know.” Rose tried to make sense of what she had just felt. How had she heard the TARDIS call to her, though she wasn’t inside? All she knew was that something bad had just tried to mess with the TARDIS, and the ship had needed to flee. Rose had told her to run, but why? “The TARDIS, my TARDIS, was in danger. So I sent her away.” As the connection to her lovely ship grew further and further away, Rose felt the wave of exhaustion crash into her. “Doctor.”   
  
“Yes?” His hands tightened around her, and Rose knew, for now, in that moment, without a doubt, she was safe.   
  
“Think ‘m about ta faint.”   
  
“I’m holding you, Rose.”   
  
“Don’ let me go.”   
  
Rose collapsed on the Doctor’s chest, and he cradled her to him instinctively. He had more questions than answers now, but one thing he knew for sure. Something was wrong, something was horribly, terribly wrong. Deep inside his own TARDIS, the cloister bells pealed a warning.   
  
“Okay, old girl.” He nudged the TARDIS from where she was observing from the safety of her Matrix. “Initiate Emergency Programme six two Alpha zed.” With a hum of acknowledgement, the Doctor felt the TARDIS cloak herself, and then for the first time since he’d stolen her, his ancient ship went into absolute lockdown.   
  
  
  



	4. Severance

“It’s gone, my Liege.” Emyr froze in front of the line of computers he had set up, fingers pausing on the keys. “The blue box. We tried to move it, but it started making this noise and it disappeared.” He ground his teeth, clenching his fists. Anger boiled up into him, and he was on his feet, towering over the whimpering man kneeling on the floor. He kicked him hard, reaching out with his thoughts to plunge into the man’s mind, but he froze.    
  
“Rose.” Snorting, Emyr ran a hand through his hair and spun to look at the window. Dawn was fast approaching, so it was covered in thick, black cloth. “I forgot I sent her there just before I changed. She must have gotten scared when you lot began messing with the TARDIS.” Oh, his love was so clever. She was so powerful and resourceful. She was also hopelessly in love with him. Rose wouldn’t run far. She’d coming for him soon enough, with some foolhardy plan to save him. “ I need our smartest computer techs in here, now. She’ll have moved the TARDIS to a new location, and soon she’ll be looking for me. I need eyes on every camera in this city.”    
  
“Cameras my liege?” This new man, whoever he was, was braver than the others. Impressive, stupid but impressive. Emyr spun and looked down on him again. “You mean like the security cameras in shops and banks?”    
  
“I mean security cameras like U.N.I.T.” Emyr wanted to kick the man again, but he didn’t. His ignorance came from being born in the seventies. Unlike Vera and her remaining lackeys, who had found her way to Earth after escaping some penal colony on Pluto, the rest of his new subjects were humans that Vera had infected to help her poorly planned scheme. “I’ll explain what they need to do when they get here, now go fetch them!”   
  
Walking back to the rows of horribly antiquated computers, Emy pulled out his sonic and resumed upgrading the processing speed of the clunky towers. Once he had a team monitoring for the TARDIS and Rose, he could turn his focus on overhauling the experiments. He grabbed his goblet, tossing back the warm blood. Regular food filled his belly, staved off the hunger pains, but only this actually satisfied him. Satisfied that he had updated the computers as much as possible, he crossed back to the window.    
  
“Where are you?” He hummed, and though he knew it would be in vain, Emyr reached out for his bondmate. The longer he spent without her thoughts, the emptier he felt. He needed her, to have her thoughts in his, to taste her skin on his lips, to feel her skin under his fingers. “Rose, where are you.” He prodded the bond, and instead of dead numbness, he felt a shocking sting. “There you are!”    
  
Laughing under his breath, Emyr grabbed for the bond again, bracing himself on the wall. Again it struck out at him, stinging, biting, resisting. “Oh, you’re being clever. What are you and the TARDIS doing, hm?” He seized the connection hard, trying to wrap his thoughts around it, but it stung him again, painfully, like a Purtaran Wasp. “Stop that!” He bellowed, slamming his fist against the concrete. “You can’t hide from me- gaaaaah!” The bond stabbed him again, lashing out over and over. The wasp like stings were relentless, and then they were electrified. It was like grabbing wires that had been cut and sloppily taped together, while spliced with another circuit.   
  
His concentration shattered as he hit the floor, panting, hand and mind throbbing. “No! No! What have you done you stupid girl?!” Emyr spat on the floor, trying hard to erase the burning, itching pain in his mind. It was as he had thought. His transformation had cut their bond, not entirely, not severed as death would, but it had fractured it. More than likely, it had knocked her unconscious in the beginning, which would explain the dead air, but now she was awake. “What was that other connection? Hmmm? What did you do Rose?”    
  
He staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth clean of the blood flavored froth that had formed in his pain. His mind, still itching like a healing scab, gave him an infuriating thought, one that made his mind fill with hatred, jealousy, and a thirst for destruction. “You bonded with someone else, didn’t you.” Oh, he couldn’t be mad at his Rose. She had probably been overwhelmed with the pain, this interloper must have found her writhing in agony, must have helped her onto the TARDIS. He wouldn’t have been human, but was probably some stinking telepathic refugee who’s planet he and the Time Lords had burned in the war. He would have known, though.    
  
Rose would be suffering from severance sickness. She’d be suffering from temporary short term memory loss as her mind tried to recuperate from its trauma. This person, this pathetic interloper would have known the signs, he must have taken advantage of it. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for touching you! You are mine!” Howling, Emyr grabbed his empty goblet and hurled it across the room. Six people came scurrying in through the door, and he spun on them. “Pick a seat, now!”    
  
He prowled after them, digging his fingers into the shoulders of two when they settled into their stations. “Listen carefully. I have connected these computers to a series of cameras across London. I want twenty-four seven monitoring on them! She!” He pointed wildly at the picture of Rose he’d taken from his psychic paper wallet and pinned to the cork board at the end of the row. “Is the top priority. I have teams out in the city now, and if you see her, you are to alert them! Your second priority is that!” He gestured at the picture of the TARDIS he had sketched. “The moment you see it, I want to know! The programs are already running. Not a single second will be wasted! Nobody leaves until my wife is found!”    
  
“Yes my Liege.” His new group of sycophants chorused, and Emyr left them to it.    
  
“My Liege.” It was Servant One again, waiting in the hall. “We brought in five new donors. Would you like one brought to your chambers?” Oh that sounded so tempting. “I made personally sure that two of them were very beautiful blonde women in their twenties. I think-“    
  
“My wife dyes her hair you mutated ape!” Emyr spun, pinning her to the wall by her throat. “I could give a fuck less what color hair my meal has. So stop trying to manipulate yourself into my favor. You can’t manipulate me. I invented manipulation.” She gasped under his grasp, an obvious attempt at apologizing. “No, literally I did. Now, to answer your question, no, I do not want any dirty humans in my chambers.” He was thirsty though, so thirsty, but he wanted his first bite into warm skin to be special. He wouldn’t feed from the vein until he had Rose in his arms.    
  
“Bring one to the development lab. I have work to do.” Tossing her aside, he continued his path down to the disgustingly underdeveloped lab Vera had hobbled together. He had just settled onto a stool to make a list of what equipment he’d need to manufacture the virus more efficiently when a dizzying wave of a memory hit him.    
  
_ The Doctor was walking down a stone corridor in his TARDIS. His hand was laced with a smaller, delicate one. He looked over at the owner, but her face was out of focus, like a smudged painting. “You’ll feel a lot better once you’ve had a bath and eaten, darling. I’ll have the TARDIS send up some clothes from the wardrobe.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The woman spoke, but her words were unintelligible. They made him smile, made his hearts swell in amused affection. “Nonsense. She’s just been through a lot this week, what with me regenerating, the Master opening the Eye of Harmony, falling into it, and then Grace ripping out half her console wiring.” A flash of jealousy that did not belong to him hissed in his mind. “We kissed, that’s all, and she didn’t want to travel with me.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The woman spoke again, squeezing his hand. Still, the Doctor couldn’t remember her words, her face, but she was beautiful, and sad. She was so sad and alone. It made his stomach clench. “Stop pouting. You go pick a room and change. Then join me in the galley, and we’ll talk.” The faceless woman hugged him tightly, and then she was walking away. He regretted not kissing her proffered lips as soon as she turned a corner.  _ __   
  
Gasping Emyr shook his head. The memory was fading, slipping through his grasp, no matter how hard he tried to cling to it. What was that? Why now? “Whoever she was, she obviously wasn’t important.” He sneered to no one. He returned to his list, as Servant One came in with a brunette human woman. “Perfect timing. Wait outside.”    
  
“What’s going on! Please, sir! Help me!” The brunette human was sobbing, her cheeks and eyes red and swollen.    
  
“Oh, don’t cry.” Emyr went to her, curling an arm around her shoulder. “Here, sit, I’ve got you.” He eased her into a chair, pulling a tissue from his pocket. It was amusing to watch her relax, to see that trust naive little humans always felt around him. As she dabbed her face, mumbling thanks, and would he help her go home, Emyr picked up the medical restraints from the nearby counter and cuffed her wrists to the chair.    
  
She screamed, and he laughed. “Don’t worry. This will only sting a little.” He grabbed one of the draining needles and IVs from a tray and slid it into the vein at her elbow with precision. At the same time, he knelt beside her, sliding the IV between his lips like a straw and sucked. Her blood coated his tongue, rich, refreshing, satisfying. She was still screaming, and her terror made her all the more sweet.    
  
When her voice grew weak, and her head lolled to the side, he slid the needle from her arm and gently bandaged the insertion spot. “You’re a little low on iron, but we’ll fix that.” Emyr hummed as he brushed her hair from her pale face. Then he stood, grabbing his list, and going out to the hall. Servant One was waiting head bowed. “Take her to her cell. Make sure she gets an iron rich diet. She isn’t to be fed on for forty-eight hours.” He stepped away, and then looked back. “Your new name is Paige. Mostly so I can shout ‘paging Paige!’ When I need you.” Chuckling at his own wit, Emyr set off to find one of their well threatened or well paid human errand runners.    
  


“Told you, she doesn’ like me.” The Doctor turned at the sound of Rose’s soft voice. He blinked in surprise when he found her standing in the doorway, freshly showered, wearing one of his undershirts and only that. “She wouldn’ let me in any of the bedrooms, ‘nd she locked the wardrobe. Luckily I know where the secret tunnel from the library to our room is...” her voice trailed off. “Your room, I mean. Sorry.” She looked so young and lost, and it was hard to believe this girl, no woman, held a part of the TARDIS’ in her soul.   
  
“No, don’t apologize.” Rose sniffed as the Doctor hurried forward and draped an arm over her. His concern for her wasn’t that same, deep, passionate, protectiveness she was used to, but it was genuine. Feeling it in her mind staved off the tears. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made some bacon and eggs.” She let him shuffle her over to the table, and her hearts sang in delight. “And some-“    
  
“Toast with orange marmalade ‘nd a banana smoothie?” The Doctor instantly loved the sweet giggle and tongue touched smile Rose graced him with. “No matter the body, you keep trying ta get me to force bananas on me.” Her love across their bond was breathtaking, and when she kissed his cheek and stroked his hair, he wondered how this woman had come to be in his life? Maybe it was now? Maybe this entire situation was a circular paradox. “No paradox. You’ll see.”   
  
He chided her as she slipped into a chair. “Listening to my thoughts. You’re very nosey.”   
  
“That’s one of the reasons you love me.” Rose quipped, and she almost regretted her words, forgetting he wasn’t big ears and leather or skinny and pinstriped. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that.” She picked up a strip of bacon, trying to eat it, but everything was tasteless. The blank spots in her memories were weighing on her, and she hated not knowing.    
  
“Rose?” Cool hands closed over her arm, and she turned her gaze on this young Doctor. He was handsome, and she knew that even without the bond, she’d think so.  He was still the Doctor, still had that sparkle of mischief in his eyes, steel blue instead of sky blue like the one’s that had stolen her heart. He still radiated centuries of knowledge, of peace and safety. She’d have to get used to how he wasn’t much taller than her, couldn’t tower over her, but he had wonderful hair, so wavy and loose, a blondish brown that looked as if it was wishing hard to be ginger. “We’ll find him. I promise. I may have taken another look around your mind when you passed out. I know what’s wrong.” He pulled his hand away, smoothing his waist coat and then his collar. The word Byronic flickered into her mind, and Rose almost giggled.    
  
“You’re my husband. I don’ mind you rummaging in my head, well, mostly. Jus’, don’ touch the box. Promise me.” The Doctor raised his hands and crossed his hearts. “What’s wrong with me?”    
  
“Severance sickness. It’s rare, immensely rare. I’ve never seen it, but it occurs when something traumatic happens to your mate. He isn’t dead, or the bond would have severed cleanly, leaving nothing more than the mental equivalent of scar tissue.” The Doctor pushed Rose’s plate back to her, encouraging her to eat. She needed to be strong in order to recover. “Your bond was cut, on his end, not entirely. It’s more like the telepathic wires were ripped until only one or two stayed connected and taped up. The rest were left exposed, and when I went into your mind-“    
  
“It recognized you and reconnected?”    
  
“You’re quite clever, Rose Lungbarrow. Another reason I love you?”    
  
“Can you, maybe, call me Rose Tyler?” She loved her husbands surname, but she also loved the way he said her name. He hated using his name, but this Doctor wouldn’t know that.    
  
“Rose Tyler.” Her heart thrummed, and that happy feeling it always brought filled her dark mind. “Hmmm, I like the way that flows, Rose Tyler.” Rose was momentarily in her husbands arms, his lips pressing against her bare shoulders, fingers wrapped in hers, asking her softly to say his name. Unable to stop herself, she let the words sing from her lips.   
  
The Doctor swallowed hard at the image that pulsed across the bond. The intimacy was intense, and the soft whisper of his name from Rose’s lips as it faded away made him shiver. Her eyes met his, and she flushed adorably before looking down and hiding behind her damp hair. “How old is he?” How long did he have to wait before they met, before he understood why she loved him so fiercely, before he faced something that would burn her mind.   
  
“I can’t say.” Rose looked up at the Doctor again, and she longed to tell him. She wouldn’t though. She wouldn’t risk losing it all. “How old are you?”    
  
“Seven hundred and fifty six, or is it fifty five, hmmm.” The Doctor stroked his chin, and Rose tried hard not to think about that. In less than fifty years, he’d set aside the Doctor, he’d become The Warrior. “What was that? What happens in fifty years?”    
  
“Nothing.” Rose’s quick yelp, as she started singing God Save the Queen in her mind and began shoveling eggs in her mouth was a bit frustrating. The Doctor knew foreknowledge was dangerous, but he was so tempted. “So, severance sickness. What are the side effects?” She mumbled through a full mouth.    
  
“Well, you would have gone a bit loopy for a bit, which we avoided when the TARDIS knocked you out. Then pain, which you were obviously in, and finally temporary short term memory loss.” The Doctor picked up his tea, as Rose nodded and swallowed. “Once your mind has recovered sufficiently, coped is a better word I think, the memories of what caused it will return. Then we’ll know where to look.”    
  
“How long will it take?” Rose could feel his confused distress even before he lowered his cup and sighed. “Days? Days?! No! We don’t have days! I need to save him now!” She slammed her fork down, as he frowned and leaned forward. “You’re the Doctor. He’s the Doctor. Isn’ there something we can do to make it heal or cope faster? Bondin’ with you helped the other symptoms, didn’ it?”    
  
“Yes, the other symptoms should have lasted about two weeks. When you bonded to this me, it sped up the recovery.” The Doctor knew he could think of something. He had to think of something. His future depended on it, and so did Rose.


	5. U.N.I.T.

Rose turned in the mirror, checking her reflection. She tried to clear her thoughts, to just relax and pretend this was just another morning of her and the Doctor getting ready to head out and wander into trouble. It was hard, though, when her makeup, perfume, and jewelry weren’t scattered over the mahogany dresser. His light as air pomade was missing, and his specs weren’t tossed over some book she’d dragged him away from in the middle of the night for a cuddle. She missed him, but she didn’t even know where to begin to look for him.  
  
“Rose, are you decent?” The Doctor called from the little niche that held his tinkering table and boxes of spare parts. That made her smile, because that tinkering table had gotten some more action than repairs lately. “Really?!” She laughed as she heard a tool drop on the wood. “I was working.”  
  
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” Rose only sounded partially contrite, and it did nothing to help  the reaction that surge of desire and vivid image of her perched naked exactly where he’d been repairing a valve. Grumbling, he willed his body into check and tossed the pieces aside. “Decent though.” He stood, coming around the bookcase, just in time to see her pocket her psychic paper and mobile. She frowned, patting her pockets. “Um, you didn’ happen to find my sonic sunglasses in my jacket, did you?”  
  
“Sonic sunglasses?” The Doctor touched the pocket of his waistcoat, where his screwdriver rested. She shot him a withering look that said she’d obviously gotten the same reaction from future him when she asked for them. “No, I didn’t.” She gave a heavy sigh, before shaking her ponytail back. He was glad the TARDIS had seemed to come out of her tantrum enough to at least grant Rose access to the laundry room. Her jeans, tshirt, and jacket were clean of blood.  
  
“So, what’s your plan?” Rose reached out reflexively to straighten his coat. The velvet material was foreign, but the strong hearts beating underneath were as familiar as her own. “I thought you put the TARDIS on lockdown.”  
  
“I did.” Rose bit her lip to keep from sliding her hands up and kissing him. Instead she stepped back and resigned herself to taking his hand. “But it’s been twelve hours and nobody’s come looking for you yet. I thought maybe we’d go out, retrace your steps.” He pulled her confidently along. “I want to go back to where your TARDIS was. Can you remember?”  
  
“No, not really.” The Doctor could feel her straining to find the memory, but that wasn’t going to work. So he reached through the bond, stroking her mind gently. “Guess we can jus’ wander about.” That was what he intended anyways, so he led her through the console room, made sure the TARDIS knew to remain cloaked, and locked the door behind him. The moment she was in the morning sun, he felt some of Rose’s fear dwindle. “A sunny morning? Maybe that’s a good sign.”  
  
“Maybe.” The Doctor squeezed her fingers, as that familiar thrill of the unknown rose up into him. He felt it fill her too, and he wondered wildly how long they’d traveled together. She turned that hearts stopping smile on him and tugged him out into the street. “So, Rose, how long have we been traveling together?”  
  
“Um, five years. We’ve only been bonded six months, give or take.” Rose closed her eyes remembering back to the chaotic mess as they both came to realize she had changed, that she was different, that she could have his forever. “But it took about five months before you were confident I could handle your thoughts while we...” just to see him blush, she sent him a vivid image of them staring at each other in his bed, the feeling of his fingers on her face as he rocked into her with a groan. It worked, as the Doctor holding her hand and meandering along the pavement choked on his own saliva and stared at her. “What?”  
  
“You do that to him a lot don’t you?” The Doctor couldn’t deny that the image had been, for lack of a better word, invigorating. He was a young, healthy, Time Lord, and this body seemed to be lacking his usual reservations with maintaining distances as it was. The beautiful anomaly with him now seemed to know exactly what made him excited. Rose snickered beside him, and to his surprise and delight, she moved in closer, holding his arm as well as his hand. “You minx.”  
  
“Trust me, you love it.” Rose wasn’t ashamed to admit that this felt right. This was the Doctor, her Doctor, no matter what face he wore. It also seemed, judging by the amused, slightly annoyed, affection he was emanating that he was feeling it too. She drew in a deep breath, taking in the early morning bustle of the city. Something about the sunlight made her feel safe, but she didn’t know why. “Hang on, I know this place.” She paused, realizing they were in an area not far from the estates. “We weren’t parked near here. You always avoids anywhere that has to do with my past, erm... we learned the hard way.”  
  
“Okay, so that means we have to go elsewhere.” The Doctor suddenly had an idea. He grabbed Rose by the shoulders and kissed her firmly in excitement at his own brilliance. When he released her, he was surprised to see she looked a bit dazed. Through the bond she was simmering with pleased surprise. “You always get like this when I kiss you?”  
  
“When ‘m not expecting it. Now, what were you so excited about?” Rose wanted nothing more than to grab him by the coat and snog him senseless. She took his arm instead. “Well.”  
  
“The Brigadier! We can use the U.N.I.T. Offices to scan for alien tech!” The Doctor didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. “If you two were caught up in something bad enough for him, for me, to tell you to run, it has to be alien.”  
  
“Who’s the Brigadier.” Rose didn’t know much to make the Doctor stop midrun, but he stumbled and spun around like she’d just told him she’d never heard of tea. “What? Is he important?”  
  
“He’s my best friend on Earth. I’ve never introduced you to him?!” The Doctor wondered where he was at, in what point in his life, that he hadn’t even mentioned the Brigadier. He knew Rose wasn’t going to tell him, but maybe he could get her to drop hints. “Come on.”  
  
Rose ran with the Doctor, as he sprinted back out onto the pavement. “I thought your plan was to help me get my memories back.” She clung to him, dashing through traffic, down four side streets, and into a rather bland looking business park she vaguely registered would be garages later. “Doctor! Why can’t we use your TARDIS to scan?”  
  
“Because if they were after your TARDIS, then what do you think would happen if they detect mine? Right now she’s cloaked, but I’d have to uncloak her in order to do it.” The Doctor caught Rose as she nearly crashed into him. He cupped her face, pleading with her to trust him. “If we find out what aliens, then maybe it will trigger a memory. Trust me, Rose Tyler. I’m the Doctor.”  
  
“Yes, you are.” Rose couldn’t take it anymore. She needed her husband. She needed to feel him, to know she wasn’t crazy, that she could find him, could save him. She plunged her hands into his hair, pulling him down until their lips crashed together. The Doctor flailed his hands at her sides for a moment, but she poured her need and love through the bond. When his arms wrapped around her, cradling her against him, she sighed and gave herself over to the soft rhythm of his lips.  
  
Her pinstripe Doctor kissed like a victorious warrior. He was all squeezing hands, tongues dancing, teeth pulling at her lips. This Doctor was smooth, he was gentle, with soft caresses and breathy sighs. He stroked her hair, trailed his tongue along her lower lip, only for it to disappear when she parted them for him. He teased her upper lip, smiling, dipping back in to brush their lips together once more. “Feel better?” He murmured, brushing his nose along hers as he pulled away. Through their bond, she could feel that he had thoroughly enjoyed it, and wanted more.  
  
“Mmmm yeah. Blimey.” Rose wasn’t just acting like she was blown away by his kissing prowess. The Doctor could feel it through the bond. That brief minute of connection, of showing her that he was the Doctor, that he was there for her, had wiped away a lot of the fear and worry she’d been harboring. “I love you.”  
  
“And I will love you.” He knew it wasn’t the answer she wanted, but the sound of clinking guns was a bit more important. “Oh, hello.” The Doctor smiled broadly as he tucked Rose into his side and turned her to face the U.N.I.T. Soldiers who had come pouring out of the inconspicuous buildings. Smirking, he held up the Sonic he’d activated just before Rose had kissed him senseless. “I’m the Doctor. Is the Brigadier in?”  
  
“Stand down, men.” Rose blinked as a rather striking man in a military uniform, who looked surprisingly spry and fit for a man who had to be in his late fifties emerged from a door. “Doctor, it’s good to see you. I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve never been one for kissing your companions.” She opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor cut her off as he stepped forward and clasped the man in a fraternal hug.  
  
“Rose Tyler, meet Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, head of U.N.I.T.” She stepped forward as the Brigadier took her hand politely and kissed her knuckles. “Brigadier, meet Rose Tyler, my wife.” The look the Brigadier developed made Rose blush and lean into the Doctor to hide her giggle. “Now, my old friend, we need your help.”  
  
“My liege.” Paige’s voice pierced Emyr’s mind, making him stir under the sheets. He lifted his head, checking his time sense to find that he had only been sleeping for four hours. It was just past nine in the morning.  
  
“What is it?!” He bellowed, rolling over instinctively to feel for the warm body that should be bare on the sheets next to him. The space was empty. Growling into the pillow, he pushed himself up. “Well?!”  
  
“The team thinks they found your wife.” That had his attention. He shot up, kicking his sheets aside and prowling to the door. “Where is she then?” He threw it open, glaring down at the woman. “Well!”  
  
“They couldn’t get a team out to her in time.” Paige flinched back, and Emyr shoved past her, grabbing his coat as he went. He pulled it on, cutting his way through the people that dodged out of his way. The warehouse and underground tunnels got fuller during the day.  
  
“Show me!” He snarled, bursting into the room. The six people at the computers jumped. “Who found her! Show me!” A man who looked to be in his mid thirties, but Emyr didn’t care to guess, raised his hand. “Move.”  
  
He half threw the man from the chair and sat down. Fingers flying, he accessed the video playback. Soon enough, a fuzzy, black and white recording sparked to life. It was taken from one of the fake birds planted around the city. Rose was standing at a street corner, talking to someone. Her clothes looked the same, but her hair was now up instead of down. He couldn’t see who it was, because the angle was blocked by a sign.  
  
Whoever it was took her shoulders and pulled her face out of view. When she stumbled back, she had that dazed, pleased look she always wore when he spontaneously kissed her. Emyr growled possessively as one of the hands took hers, and they disappeared out of view. “Was there more?” He saw there was before the man could answer. “Never mind, shut up.”  
  
Pressing play, Emyr felt his blood boil. Rose was standing near the entrance of one of the hidden U.N.I.T. Offices that were located near where she would eventually live. She was talking animatedly with someone, as if she was worried or confused. A coat sleeve came into view, from just out of frame, stroking her arm. Then, to his rage and horror, Rose seized the stranger and pulled him in for a kiss.  
  
“You cheating-“ Emyr cut himself off, as the feed crackled with static, and then Rose and the stranger were surrounded by U.N.I.T. Soldiers. Out of one door walked an old, but familiar face. The Brigadier addressed Rose and whoever this person was that had someone stolen his wife, and then they walked together out of frame. “No, no. I won’t be mad at you. Your mind isn’t working right. I’ll fix that.” He whispered, and shoved out of the chair. “Any word on my TARDIS?”  
  
“No, my Liege.” All six chimed in.  
  
“But we’re getting something weird. The Cameras, they’re moving without us now.” One woman, or girl maybe, she was wearing a school uniform shirt. “I think these U.N.I.T. People are looking for something.”  
  
“Yes, me. Let them have the control, but keep monitoring.” Emyr crossed the room, too energized to sleep now. Rose was with the one group of people who could actually help her, so he needed to work faster. “I want people surrounding that entire block and the shopping center being built six intersections up. When she comes out, take her and whoever she is with. She is not to be hurt. If anyone, I mean anyone, so much as draws blood on her, I will kill them myself.” He turned To Paige, making sure she knew he was addressing her. “As for whoever she is with, bring him to me. She’s going to need to eat once she’s like us.”  
  
With that, Paige scuttled off. Emyr headed down to the lab, where a team of well paid and well threatened scientists were working. “Any update on the equipment I told you to acquire?”  
  
“Yes, my Liege. This, replicator, you designed should be completed by sunrise tomorrow.” A blonde woman spoke, as she stepped away from her petri dish. She fiddled with her glasses, looking away from him with tangy scented nervousness. “As it is now, the virus’ stability is failing. It doesn’t last for more than two hours outside of the host’s body.”  
  
“Which is why I need that replicator. With it, we can replicate the host’s cells and make it easier to pass on to chosen people.” Emyr smiled down at the woman, and he placed a hand on her head. “Now, get back to work and let me know when it’s ready!”  
  
Spinning on his heel, he made his way to the kitchen’s, needing to quench his thirst. Emyr wanted to go out and get Rose himself, but he couldn’t risk wandering out into the light. It would weaken him, and if he was weak, then he could be overthrown. He had no idea who she was with, but they were going to die, slowly, and painfully for taking advantage of her in such a state. Then, his head swam as a memory hit him.  
  
_The Doctor leaned against a doorframe, his eyes focused in on the supple, jean clad rear bent over a desk. The faceless woman looked back at him, gold strands falling into her featureless face. His hearts beat faster when she smiled at him. He knew she was smiling, but it wasn’t visible. The man at the desk she was leaning over said something to her, that he didn’t hear, and she sighed. The man’s face was blurred and featureless too. He felt the wave of disappointment that didn’t belong to him, and pushed away from the frame._   
  
_“We’ll find him, love. Don’t cry.” Tears soaked his fingers as he stroked her cheeks. Her lips were soft as velvet under his as he pulled her into his arms. “I promise.”_   
  
_The faceless woman draped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt so perfect, so right in his arms. The Doctor turned, keeping the woman tight against him. She spoke, but he didn’t understand her words, and another faceless uniformed man spoke and pointed to a vaguely familiar office where sandwiches waiting. He touched the uniformed man’s arm, and together he and the woman went into the office._  
  
Emyr gasped, clutching his head as the world came back into focus. “What are these memories?! I don’t understand.” He reached out instinctively for his bond with Rose, only to be shocked harder than ever. “I’m going to kill whoever has you!” He swore to the air, before wrenching open a refrigerator and pulled out a bag of blood.  
  
  
  



	6. Close Calls

Rose was focused on the computer screen, wishing vehemently that the alien tech it had been roughly intermixed with, was slightly more advanced. Yes, she was in nineteen eighty-six, but the advancements only had the systems running up to the standards of early two thousands. It wasn’t going to find any alien technology unless it was blatantly flaunting itself at maximum power. Before Bad Wolf, she wouldn’t have understood half of the data she was taking in, but now she could. She hadn’t quite told her mum yet, because she was still a bit miffed that Rose had eloped for two months before they gave in and had a ceremony on Earth. Okay, Jackie was still livid about it.    
  
A warm, but firm and gentle hand touched her shoulder, making Rose jump. “Mrs. Tyler, Sergeant Chesterfield needs his computer back.” The Brigadier spoke with a smooth but confident voice, drawing her gaze up to his solemn face. Well. His face was solemn, but the eyes below his almost totally gray eyebrows sparkled with adventure, and his rather impressive mustache twitched as if he were on the verge of smiling but his lips didn’t want to let on. “My men do have to work, you know.”    
  
“Sorry, Sir, I shouldn’t have hijacked his station.” Rose pushed her chair back and stood, flexing her neck and shoulders. Her time sense, while still not making any sense half the time, told her she’d been squinting at that screen for two hours. “Jus’, ‘m not exactly used to the government bein’ okay with actually helpin’ us. Usually they’re tryin’ to arrest us or chase us or throw us in a cell to experiment on.”    
  
“Not here at U.N.I.T Mrs. Tyler. As you know, the Doctor is our Chief Scientific Officer.” The Brigadier placed a hand on her upper back, which normally would make Rose jerk away and throw some retort that she wasn’t some wilting damsel. She didn’t though, because this man didn’t speak or talk with underlying tone that he saw her as just some young, blundering girl. His tone and posture was nothing but respect, and definitely curiosity. Still, his words shocked her. She did not know the Doctor worked for U.N.I.T. “By that expression, I see you didn’t know. Still, as he is such, I think you’ll find that U.N.I.T is always ready to help him. As you are his wife, our courtesies extend to you.”    
  
“You’re skeptical ‘m even his wife.” Rose knew it was immensely rude to even glance at his thoughts, but she was still learning to control her telepathy. She didn’t see much, just the Brigadier’s skepticism and his honesty. This man liked the Doctor, with something between admiration, brotherhood, and just a healthy bit of respectful fear. To the pride and credit of his rank, the Brigadier took her accusation without flinching. “Believe me, mos’ days I can’ believe it either. I am though.”    
  
“You’ll have to forgive me. The only other encounter I’ve had with a Time Lord besides him was the Master-“    
  
“That explains your worry.” That was a name the Doctor had told her about, and she was glad, immensely so, that that was one person she’d never meet. “Bu’ ‘m not a Time Lady.” This brought the man to a stop, and Rose looked up at him with an amused smile. “I was born human, well, I will be born human, next year, not far from here on the Powell Estates.” She’d been hoping to goad a surprised reaction but he simply nodded and resumed their walk through the halls. “I changed though, ‘nd now ‘m more or less like him. Still consider myself human.”    
  
_Interesting_ The Doctor’s voice trickled through their bond with bemused affection. _Tell_ _me_ _more_.    
  
“Oh, stuff it.” She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation as he laughed across the bond. The Brigadier made an affronted noise. “Not, you, Sir. My husband was eavesdropping.” She tapped her temple, and the Brigadier smiled and nodded. Good, he knew about telepathy.    
  
“I see his rudeness extends even to his wife. I can’t say I’m surprised.” The Brigadier chuckled, and Rose liked him all the more. “So, who exactly are we looking for. I don’t mean to pry.” She arched a brow at him, as they approached a lift. “That’s not true, I’m an inquisitive man by nature. Is it your son? I saw you crying earlier, and the Doctor was promising to find him. He’s also a bit more frantic than usual.” The lift doors closed, and the Brigadier seemed to become more open in the isolation. “And where is Miss Pollard? I just saw her with him last month in the States?”    
  
“I can’t exactly explain, but no, it isn’t a son. The Doctor ‘nd I can’ have children.” This was an extreme point of contention with her mother. Rose wasn’t bothered by it though. She was neither for nor against having children. “‘Nd we haven’ met this Miss Pollard yet. He jus’ regenerated a few days ago, so if he had this face it means it’s his future. Best not to bring her up.”    
  
“It was the face he has now. I won’t.” Rose was pleased to talk to someone who understood how twisted life with the Doctor could get. She didn’t miss how the Brigadier didn’t mention that Rose had not been with them. She hoped that meant she returned to the Doctor. The lift moved slowly, and the silence was thick as the Brigadier looked between her and the numbers. “You’re looking for the Doctor, a future Doctor, aren’t you?”    
  
“I see why he likes you.” Rose bit her lip, wondering if that would make this easier or harder. She wasn’t sure exactly. The lift doors opened, and she stepped out, right into the Doctor’s arms. “Oh, hello.” She giggled, as he steadied her and kissed her brow sweetly. “Was wondering where you’d wandered off to.”    
  
“Oh here and there.” The Doctor was still feeling a bit uncertain about Rose, about the circumstances that had brought her into his arms, but he was finding he liked having her there, more and more. There was just something about here that was irresistible. “Brigadier, there’s a rather panicked looking young soldier in your office.”   
  
“What did you blow up now?” The Brigadier gave him a long suffering look, moving past him, and Rose snickered under her breath affectionately. Then the minx actually slapped the Doctor on his bum, and he yelped in surprise.    
  
“I didn’t blow anything up.” He insisted, just as his future wife squeezed his rear playfully before taking his hand and dragging him down the hall. “I was digging around to see if there were any reports of crash sites in or around the city over the last few months.” He pulled Rose to a stop, needing to keep her alone in case what he found triggered a memory. “There was one, but all they found was this.” He pulled the sketch he’d made of the symbol from his pocket. “On a piece of hull. The rest of the impact site was empty.”    
  
He held his breath, searching Rose’s mind through the bond as she stared down at it. He could feel her hope, the way she tried so hard to make a connection, and he felt the disappointment when her mind stayed stubbornly blank. “Nothing, I dunno what this is.”    
  
“It’s the emblem of the Hades Group. They run prison colonies on out of the way planets throughout the galaxy.” He took the paper back, reaching out for the bond, trying to soothe her, as Rose began that downward spiral into anguish and loss. She was good at keeping herself distracted from it, and he was proud of her for doing it. He knew, when it hit her, she would start sobbing. The affection and thanks she sent back was sweet, but still terribly sad. “The closest one I know of is on Pluto.”    
  
“Pluto?!” Rose jerked against his side, her mind blaring out in recognition. He felt the memory, hazy, disjointed, and full of dread.    
  
_ Rose was covering her mouth, as the Doctor knelt beside a destroyed desk. His fingers came away from a hidden shape, dark and sticky. His eyes were the eyes of a man on fire.  _ __  
__  
_ They were standing on a wall, the shimmering dome of a synthetic atmosphere sparkling as the radiation from the pinpoint sun in the distance hit it. Below them, corpses lay mangled on what was once some sort of recreation field. He pulled her close, trembling, as he kissed her hair.  _ __  
__  
_ “Went wrong. All went wrong.” A woman lay gasping on the floor of a lab, needles and surgical instruments lay bloody in her skin and around her. Her lips and eyes told them she’d been laying there for days, alone, and suffering. “Earth... they’re going to...” her eyes went lifeless, as her hand fell off the distress beacon’s button.  _ __  
__  
_ The Doctor shouted in exasperation as he shoved the display screen away. “The TARDIS brought us down three months after they’d have landed.” He seized her by the hand, kissing her for luck, and dragged Rose down the ramp to the door.  _ __  
  
“No! No! I need more!” Rose gasped, grabbing her head, and the Doctor caught her as she staggered. She blinked up at him, and he could feel the primal fear join with a frustrated, protective anger. “I need more!”    
  
“More will come. Don’t force it.” The Doctor cradled her head to his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to help her remember, but he didn’t know how except to keep her from shredding her own mind in her anger. “This is good, Rose. It’s a start.” He kissed her hair, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He loved how she felt against him, in his mind. She made him feel complete.    
  
“Doctor, Mrs. Tyler, I need your opinions on this.” The Brigadier gestured them into his office. Rose pulled away from the Doctor and tried to compose herself. Her throat was tight with frustrated tears, and she tried to swallow them as the Doctor curled an arm around her waist and led her to the office. “The police have been reporting an unprecedented increase in missing persons over the last three months. They can’t find any connections to link them, until this morning.”    
  
Rose snatched the manilla file off the desk before the Doctor could, earning her an annoyed jab through the bond as the Brigadier chuckled. “So, we’ve got two hundred unrelated missing persons, from vagrants to lawyers.” She stared down at the list of names, surprised to find that the occupations and ages all varied from eighteen to seventy. The most recent ones, however, were alarming. “Three different pathologists from three different companies have gone missing in the last week.”    
  
“Hmmm, was anything missing from their labs, or even their homes?” The Doctor tugged the file from Rose, ignoring the snort of indignation and the subsequent tongue she stuck out at him. “Not until early this morning.” He tried to make sense of the odd array of equipment and parts that had been ransacked, but they didn’t have any related uses at all. A fax machine in the corner whirred to life, making him look up as Rose jumped.    
  
“It looks like a company that manufactures medical and research supplies was robbed this morning. This is what they took.” The Brigadier held out the paper, and Rose grabbed it at the same time as the Doctor. She shot him a lethal look, but he didn’t surrender it. So, she compromised and they both held it. She breathed in the comforting smell of grease, time, stardust, and old books as their temples touched and they read it together.    
  
“This equipment, I’ve seen it used before, but what for?” The Doctor knew there was a connection there, and he was racing his mind to make it.   
  
“Looks like a medicine replicator, like they use on Justichere.” Rose was rather pleased she could remember what most of the equipments descriptions sounded like. “They manufacture all the vaccines for-“    
  
“The Gunadra system! Yes! Yes! You are brilliant Rose Tyler!” The Doctor dropped the paper to cup her cheeks and kiss her in his exuberance. “I knew there was a reason I married you!” He watched in joy as her cheeks flushed the color of her namesake, and he kissed her again, just because he could. The Brigadier cleared his throat. “Right, Sorry.”    
  
“So, someone is trying to make a vaccine? That doesn’t sound too ominous.” Rose managed to shove the dazed arousal that her husband’s kiss never failed to fill her with away at the Brigadier’s words.   
  
“Or they could be planning on replicating a disease and infecting the planet.” The Doctor didn’t have time to bring the doom and gloom, because his wife did it for him. “Brigadier, keep your men monitoring for any alien technology, but also look for regular, human power sources where they shouldn’t be.” He watched the way she looked out at the setting sun, and he felt an instinctive fear flow through the bond. She grabbed a pen and scribbled a number down. “If you find anything, call my mobile.”    
  
“What she said.” The Doctor barely had time to tell his friend, because his wife was sprinting into the hall. “Rose! Where are you going?!”    
  
“TARDIS!” Rose didn’t understand this feeling, this urge to get to the TARDIS before dark. It was screaming at her, loudly, burning her mind and soul. She slammed her hand on the lift button, urging the numbers to move faster. The lift doors opened just as the Doctor skidded to her side in a rustle of velvet. “We have to run.”    
  
“Not that I’m against running, but why? We can’t scan for anything. I told you-“ The Doctor was cut off as Rose grabbed his hand and gave him a pleading look. She was begging him through the bond to trust him. “TARDIS it is.”    
  
By the time they reached the lobby disguised as a paper goods office, the sun was below the horizon, and the purple shadows of twilight and the grey clouds filled the sky. The light rain hit Rose’s face, as they stumbled into the early morning crowd near a shopping center being built. The hair on her neck and arms stood up, and she knew. “We’re being-“    
  
“Watched. I know I feel it too.” The Doctor clutched Rose’s hand, doing his best to keep her calm as he mentally calculated the route back to his TARDIS. It only took him fifteen seconds, and he dragged her down the pavement. Then, he saw movement. It came fast, from the shadow of a building, hurtling at Rose. “Watch-“    
  
He didn’t have to finish because Rose had whirled in his grip and executed a perfect clothesline into the man’s throat. She cried out in pain, as the man came off his feet and landed squarely on his back. “Run!” She screamed, and then she was dragging him.    
  
Three more figures separated from the crowds, and Rose felt all those months of self defense training with Jack flow into her. The Doctor wasn’t much for physical altercations, but he hadn’t objected to the Time Agent teaching her non lethal ways to defend herself when reasoning wouldn’t work. Sometimes a good arsekicking was necessary. When one grabbed her from behind, Rose reached back, grabbed his neck, bent low, and threw him into a postbox nearby. The Doctor was nowhere in sight.    
  
“Damn it!” She swore, as she found the other two herding her towards a black van in an alley. “What do you want with me?!”   
She growled, trying to skirt around the men away from the alley.    
  
“Our King wants you. His orders must be obeyed.” The one on the right replied with a sneer. “He will have you.”    
  
“Oh no he won’t!” Rose kicked the man hard in the crotch as he lunged forward, and she leaped over him towards the street. Then, burning pain stabbed into her mind, making her stumble. “Doctor!” She screamed, trying to run as the pain blinded her, consumed her. The sound of tires squealing and burnt rubber assaulted her, and she felt cool hands on her wrists.    
  
“Get on! Now!” The Doctor yanked Rose onto the motorbike behind him, just as the men were stumbling to their feet. He revved the engine, spinning the back tire around on the wet pavement. Her mind was on fire again, but not like before. He could feel it over the bond, the burning, jealous, possessive entity trying to stab its way into her inner sanctum.   
  
“She is mine!” A rage filled bellow echoed over the crowd, and the Doctor saw, in the wing mirror of the motorbike, a man  jump from the top of a building and give chase. Dodging traffic, the Doctor gave the bike everything he could, and the man disappeared in the distance, roaring in defeat. Rose was whimpering behind him, her mind a torrent of pain and grief. Abandoning the motorbike on a sidestreet, the Doctor engulfed his wife’s mind with his and carried her with full speed to his TARDIS.    
  
Emyr stood seething on the wet pavement, watching as the motorbike disappeared in the traffic. He had been so close, so close to having his Queen back in his grasp. He knew, now, that his plans to simply take her from her captor would not work. Oh, she was clever, more clever than he’d given her credit for.    
  
“You had to go to the Doctor, didn’t you? You had to bring him into this?” He spat on the sidewalk, as it all made sense now. The memories were his. This had all happened before. His time lines were out of synch, which was why he didn’t remember it, why it came to him in disjointed flashes. “Now I know, Rose. That’s fine. I can’t be angry with you.” He smoothed his suit, turning on his heel to head back to the pathetic men his wife had likely beaten quite deliciously. “It just means I have to get you to come to me before he figures it out. I can’t kill him, because he’s what I was, but I can make sure he forgets this.” The idea was so beautiful in his head. “Then, you and I shall spread our triumph across the stars.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Doctor, Attend Your Patient

Rose had often wondered what her Doctor was like before the war? She had thought of so many different ways his personality may have been. She was surprised to find that his wanderlust was more of a way of life than a driving necessity. The two Doctors she had fallen in love with had seemed incapable of sitting still unless she practically begged them to. He was still fidgety, but not manic in it. He still tinkered, but more out of needing to distract his hands while he thought instead of a way to get his need to run in check.   
  
“You don’t have to hover in the doorway.” She smiled as he looked up from his little tinkering niche and held out his hand. Rose moved towards him, tossing her towel onto a nearby chair and fell onto the bench beside him. “The shower seemed to help clear your mind.” She laced her fingers with his, staring at them, trying to envision the black and gold band on the broader fingers. “A psychic assault usually leaves people unconscious. It just made you sick.”   
  
“Because you protected my mind. ‘S jus’, it didn’t feel like ‘n assault, Doctor.” Rose couldn’t describe it, but she didn’t feel anything aggressive or angry when that pain had hit her. “It hurt, bu’ I don’ think the person was tryin’ to hurt me.” He squeezed her hand and pulled her in closer. “Did you get a good look at who was chasing us?”   
  
“No, it was too dark. He won’t find you here though. Even if he tried, the assem-“   
  
“Bled hoards of Ghengis Khan couldn’t get through those doors. You’ve told me, or will tell me, that.” The Doctor chuckled as Rose rolled her shoulder and winced. “Normally heal faster than this, bu’ that guy was built like a brick wall.” She wasn’t in serious pain, that he could feel, just sore. “Find anything else out about that Hades company?”   
  
“Yes.” He reached over to touch a screen on his tablet that accessed the TARDIS’ data matrix. He had been doing some research after he’d finished his shower and she went for hers. The TARDIS had reluctantly offered to give her a room, since she obviously needed one, but he found he liked Rose’s presence in his room, her scent in the air. She seemed most comfortable here anyways. “So, it looks like at this time frame in their history, they come under investigation for experimenting on inmates and selling the altered people as slave soldiers.”   
  
“That sounds ominous-“   
  
“Read the description of who tipped off the Investigators.” Rose blinked down at the report, her heart thudding in hope.   
  
“When questioned on their identities, the man looked at the woman, smiled, and said ‘You’re gonna be asking yourself that for the rest of your life. Sorry.’ And then walked into a big, blue box and disappeared.” There were no pictures of them attached, but Rose knew her husband well enough to know the Doctor watching her with keen interest wouldn’t be so cryptic. “So, experiments gone wrong confirms my memories from the lab. If they were sold as slave soldiers, tha’ explains why they’d have gone cannibal berserker on the guards ‘nd other inmates.”   
  
“And they are on Earth, kidnapping people, stealing equipment used to replicate medicine or diseases.” The Doctor had been contemplating all of this, every bit of it, but he didn’t like the conclusions he was drawing. “Rose, if they have him, well me, they may be experimenting on him. I’d be, he’d be, resistant to most, but what if that’s what caused the bond to sever? What if he cut it to protect you? What if that psychic attack wasn’t one of them? What if he was trying to warn you?”   
  
“But the bond is cut, so all I felt was his pain!” Rose should have felt happy, but instead her heart was breaking. She reacted as she always did when she was sad. She reached for the Doctor. His arms slid around her as he turned on the bench, and she buried her face in his neck. “I have to find him, to save him.”   
  
“And you will, but not right now. You can’t remember where he may be. The people holding him are obviously watching for you, and you seem afraid of the dark.” She knew he was right, and she hated it. She hated waiting, hated knowing he was out there, in pain, wanting nothing more than for her to be safe. “You need to rest. The psychic attack, intentional or not, had weakened you. You’re not healing like you were before.” He touched her sore shoulder as if to prove his point. “Why don’t you have a lie down? You know how comfortable the bed is.”   
  
“Will you stay in here?” The Doctor could feel that Rose didn’t want to be alone. She was eying the bed, obviously tired. He didn’t know how long it had been since she’d actually slept instead of being unconscious. He didn’t even know if she slept like a human. He was planning on going to the library and see if he could dig up more about what happened on Pluto, but Rose was apprehensive about being alone. “You don’t-“   
  
“I’ll be right here the whole time.” Rose offered the Doctor a smile when he stroked her hair and nudged her off the bench. “If I find anything, I’ll wake you up.” She stood up, crossing to the bed. She shimmied out of the loose pajama pants she’d swiped from the dresser before her shower, tossed the loose grey shirt aside, and began turning back the sheets. The wave of surprised arousal coursed through the bond, and she froze.   
  
“Doctor, sorry I didn’t think.” Rose looked down at her bare body, realizing she’d let her natural habits kick in in the safety of the room. His eyes were politely averted, but she could feel him memorizing the unintentional show. It pleased her immensely, because her Doctor often did the same thing. Well, the memorizing, not the looking away. He liked to look, to stand at the edge of the bed and drink her in with his eyes. “I’ll jus’” she made to grab the clothes.   
  
“If that’s how you sleep best, go ahead.” Appearances weren’t exactly what stirred the Doctor’s, or any Time Lord’s, interests. First, there has to he a connection, a deep one, and Rose had already forged that inside of him. He couldn’t help that it made her body alluring, stirred his physical urges when she’d stripped down like it was the most normal thing. For her it was. “I’ll wake you if I find anything else. Maybe you’ll remember something in your dreams.”   
  
“Yeah.” Rose slid under the sheets, but he didn’t let himself watch. He went back to the screen, trying his best to ignore the fact that a beautiful, clever, brave, and brilliant woman was naked in his bed. That his future wife was naked in his bed. That she was craving the feeling of her husbands arms around her as she snuggled into the pillow. “Maybe. You, um, jus’, if I start dreamin’, be warned I usually have nightmares if he isn’ holdin’ me.”   
  
“I’ll wake you up if you do. Sleep tight, Rose Tyler.”   
  
Rose pulled the sheets up and tried to get comfortable. She wasn’t unaccustomed to being in the bed alone, after all, the Doctor only slept every twelve or so days, but she was used to waking up alone not going to sleep that way. Her thoughts seemed to realize she was trying to relax, and they went wild. They kept spinning so many horrible images in place of the absent ones. The Doctor was tied up, unknown people experimenting on him. He was chained to a wall, being tortured. He was drugged or brainwashed, forced to help them with their plans.   
  
“Rose, love. Try to focus on something happy. It’ll help. Just, let go of the worry for now. Let me worry for you.” Rose nodded, and she closed her eyes. She tried to think back to her most recent happy memory.   
  
She’d been laying in this bed, in this very spot, waking up to cool lips pressing into her shoulder. Long, lean arms draped over her as the Doctor murmured her name and drew designs on her stomach. Rose remembered giggling and complaining that his boredom was going to have to wait a few hours because she needed her beauty sleep. Then his hands and shifted lower, fingers teasing, barely touching, as he murmured into her ear that she was the most beautiful woman in the universe already, and it wasn’t fair to the other women if she let herself get anymore beautiful. Also, he wasn’t bored, he just wasn’t ready to end their six month honeymoon.   
  
Rose smiled into the pillow, as the memory filled her. It relaxed her, made her feel safe and loved. The Doctor didn’t do things by half, and that included reminding his wife that the only thing that really satiated his need to run, to explore, was her love, emotionally, physically, and mentally. She could feel his fingers on her skin, his lips on her neck, his thoughts touching hers, asking permission to continue. The fears, worry, and pain in her mind ebbed to the background, and she shifted under the sheets.   
  
If only he were there, wrapped around her, and Rose felt eyes on her that weren’t the memory. She opened her own, finding warm, steel grey watching her from a chair across the room. The Doctor was there. It was a different face, a different body, but that love she felt echoing over the bond was so familiar it ached in her chest. The way he lowered his tablet and smiled softly at her was so him. Rose knew, all she had to do was speak, and he’d heed her call. Should she? Was it wrong? Softly, she held out her hand and told him that she couldn’t truly cope with this without him.   
  
His name came rolling off of Rose’s lips in a whisper that was much softer and delicate than the need surging through the bond, and the Doctor felt his resolve to keep his desires to himself shatter. He tossed the tablet aside, stood, and kicked off his shoes. He reached out through the bond, reassuring her that he was there, that he could give her everything she needed. “Are you sure, Rose?” The smile that parted her lips when his waistcoat hit the floor told him he’d asked her that, would be asking her that, more than once.   
  
“Doctor, you’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my life.” Rose was simmering in the bond, so inviting and confident that it made him shiver in anticipation. The Doctor unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside, and his wife threw the blankets aside. He was stunned by her beauty, inside and out, and he saw with a wave of amusement that his future self was just as fond of her breasts and thighs as this body was. They were decorated with fading love bites, as she pushed up to kneel on the sheets and shake her hair back. “I need you, my Doctor.” He kicked his trousers aside and let her see that he felt the same.   
  
“I love you.” Rose sighed in relief as the Doctor climbed onto the sheets, prowling towards her with that assured confidence that always made her feel so adored, so protected. His words were everything she’d needed to hear, and she gasped when he wrapped his arm around her and caught her lips in a kiss that never failed to make her give in. She wrapped her legs around him, shivering as his cool, hard length stroked against her, and he lowered her back to the sheets. “It won’t be exactly the-“   
  
“Don’t, Doctor. Jus’, touch me, please. I need you. Don’ think ‘ve ever needed you so much.” Rose didn’t want to think. She just needed to feel him. Now she understood why the Doctor would sometimes wake her up in the middle of the night, why he’d be so insistent on not talking and just feeling each other. “Love me, Doctor. Just love me.”   
  
The Doctor didn’t reply. He simply gave into the core deep need Rose was sending him. He trailed his hands along her body, catching her soft moans and gasps of delight with his tongue. Her skin was so smooth and warm under him, and her mind was dazzling and intoxicating as it danced with his. She made the most exquisite mewling noise when he followed the lingering path of his own scent down her neck to her breasts, and he smirked as he caught her right one in his lips. She arched under him, nails scratching at his back. Pleasure waved across the bond, and he groaned at it.   
  
Rose surrendered herself to the Doctor’s mind and touch. He was a bit broader in the body than what she was used to, a bit heavier over her, and his hard length stroking her folds was most definitely thicker than she was used to, which made up for the fact that it was just a bit shorter in length. “Yes.” Her mind spun in pleasure when he swirled his tongue around her nipple, effectively ending her distracted comparison. “Doctor, more.”   
  
“Oh, I plan on much more.” The Doctor released her breast as she rolled her hips up into him, her soft, trimmed, folds wet and blazing against him. She slid a hand up to his hair, and he groaned into her lips while he rocked down into her. He squeezed her thigh, breaking the kiss in an attempt to move down her body, to see if her soaked curls tasted as sweet and addictive as her lips.   
  
“No, need you inside of me.” Her delicate hand dipped between them, and he groaned when she wrapped her fingers around him with expert skill and guided him down to her center. The Doctor sighed as her eyes went wide, and she nipped tenderly at his lip. He pressed his hips forward. Rose’s hand slipped from around him, nails biting into his hips and back delightfully. He buried his hand in her hair and squeezed her thigh, groaning as her tight, velvet heat enveloped him. This was bliss.   
  
“Don’ stop.” Rose keened as the Doctor slipped into her, slowly, gently, and she trembled as he stretched her in the most delicious way. She clung to him, trying to get closer as she sought him out across the bond. He met her with a rush of pleasure and affection. Rose lost herself in him, let him fill her her mind and body. He was radiating just as much pleasure and delight as he began to move above her. As always, it was so perfect, so right.   
  
The Doctor was drowning in Rose. He’d never experienced the full ecstasy of making love while sharing thoughts, but now he understood the allure. With each of his own thrusts, her pleasure doubled back to him through the bond. It was perfection incarnate, and he was speechless. Speaking was pointless anyways. Their minds and bodies spoke enough, and he loved it. All he wanted was for her to explode, to go wild under him in pleasure, and he could feel she wanted to feel him do the same.   
  
Rose cried out as the Doctor’s hand dipped between them and began determined, circle strokes against her in time to his thrusts. It seemed even in this body, he was an extraordinarily attentive lover. As always, his insistent touches, his stretching, filling, thrusts, his lips that couldn’t decide between hers or her neck and shoulders were driving her to the edge, making her rock up into him, scrambling on his back for purchase. She was so close, and she could feel he knew it.   
  
“Let go for me Rose. Don’t hold back. Let me feel you.” The Doctor encouraged her, knowing his words only drove her higher. A brief flash filled his mind, of breathless, husky babbling in her ear. He knew what she needed, what would make that coil tightening inside her snap. “You’re so beautiful. Just let go for me, please. I need to feel you. I need it.” Almost instantly she began to flutter around him, and her lips closed on his shoulder. She was soaring higher, pulling him with her, his pleasure coiling just as tightly. “Come for me, now.”   
  
“Doctor!” Rose felt herself snap, and her pulse roared in her ears. She arched off the sheets, crying out her love to the room and across the bond. He jerked his fingers away to scoop his arms under her back and held her up to him as he plunged into her to the hilt and held himself there with a cry into her hair. The Doctor’s pleasure crashed into hers in the bond, sending her climax deliciously higher. His cool release surged into her, the chilly contrast making her jerk, taking him impossibly deeper.   
  
The Doctor cradled Rose against him with his right arm, dropping to his left forearm as she arched and trembled in ecstasy under him. He had never felt his release so deeply, so complete. Rose’s completion was still singing through the bond, making him shudder as her legs fell away from his hips, to the sheets, and he slid from her. He lifted his face from her shoulder, shifting his lips to hers, catching her breathless little whimpers of delight. “Shhh, love...that was perfect.”   
  
“We always are.” Rose raised her tingling fingers up to caress the Doctor’s face. His steel blue eyes were shining down at her, his already full lips swollen deliciously from her kisses. She whimpered at the loss of his weight when he rolled off of her onto his back. But, like always, her husband pulled her onto his bare chest and kissed her head. She felt her heart returning to normal as his double pulse gradually slowed beneath her cheek. “Hold me, until I fall asleep.”   
  
“I’m not leaving this bed until you wake up. I promise.” The Doctor stared down at the wonderful, marvelous being in his arms who was kissing his chest and snuggling comfortably into his side. He squeezed her gently before stroking her back. “Shhhh, just rest.” Now that Rose was satisfied and relaxed, he could feel how exhausted she was across the bond. He reached down, grabbing the sheets, and pulled them over their entwined bodies.   
  
Rose wanted to fight sleep longer, but the Doctor was stroking her thoughts as softly as her skin. After everything that had happened, her body was begging for rest. She couldn’t stop sleep from tugging her eyes closed, not with the Doctor holding her, not with his thoughts soothing her mind, and not with the satisfaction of their love making. “Love you Doctor.” She murmured.   
  
“Love you too, Rose Tyler.” Was the last thing that made it through the exhaustion.   
  
The Doctor wasn’t exactly tired himself, but her sleep was teasing the bond with nonsense images of purple skies and glass pyramids. Her body was so warm and pleasant against his, so he closed his eyes and let her dreams take him with her. At first, everything was pleasant, so peaceful. Through her eyes he saw himself, two versions. One was tall, grumpy, but also so loving when he took her hand, or danced her around a console room as another man watched on knowingly. Then he was another man, the one from the photo, lying on apple-grass and laughing about their first date and chips. Then things went wrong.   
  
Rose whined in his arms as she banged on the locked TARDIS doors. She stared into the heart of the TARDIS, and she burned. Then she was standing blind, listening to him lose control, hearing a rage he knew he was capable of but had always ignored. Then she was kneeling over the man in the photo, over him, as blood trickled from his lip and he told her to run. His eyes fell shut, then opened again, and the Doctor was gone. In them was hunger, deep, feral hunger that could consume the cosmos. Rose was running, down the hallways, out into the crisp night air, and creatures gave chase. Not just any creatures. Him, he was chasing her. Screaming her name, ordering her to stop. She knew where the cure was, and he wanted to stop her, to make her like him.   
  
“Vampires!” Rose screamed in horror as she jerked upright. The Doctor shot up with her. She fought against his arms, panicked in her nightmare. “No! Let me go! I don’ want to be a vampire! Please! Don’!”   
  
“Rose, it’s me! You’re safe.” It was the Doctor holding her, but it wasn’t that Doctor. She relaxed, clinging to him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Rose, darling. It’s me. It’s me. I’ve got you.” Rose held tightly to him, letting his words and touches make her feel safe. “We’ll find him. I promise. We’ll find him, and we’ll cure him.”   
  
“But how? He has the cure on the TARDIS, and I sent her away.” Rose blinked through the tears as the Doctor smiled and kissed her so, so softly.   
  
“Lab seven, cabinet Zed, the Twilight Vaccine.” The Doctor brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “I developed the cure in my sixth body, when I ran into them before.” He kissed her again, as she felt hope boil up past the realization that her husband, her Doctor, had become worse than his worst nightmares. “We can save him, save all of them, but we can’t go at night.” She knew what he was going to say before he said it. “They are weakest during the day. You need to rest.”   
  
“But-“   
  
“Sleep, Rose. I need you at your best.” She knew resisting was pointless, because the only person more stubborn than her was the Doctor. She also knew he was right. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. So, she went with him as he lowered himself back to the sheets. “Come into my mind, Love. I’ll shield you from the nightmares.” Still sniffling, she let him pull her consciousness into his own, and she spent her dreams under an orange sky alongside a lake with singing fish.   
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Best Laid Plans

Emyr spat the water from his mouth as he stood under the shower. He had warned those idiots not to test the changes on the virus on somebody until he had a chance to examine the new strain, but no. Stupid ape humans never listened. “Morons.” He snarled, pulling a chunk of fat from his hair and tossing it towards the uncovered drain. “If you had just called me, I would have told you it would turn them into a rabid cannibal.” Running into a lab as someone was ripped to pieces by a mindless berserker was never pleasant, whether he was a Time Lord or a Vampire. He hadn’t even been able to subdue the creature because it had started screaming and then clawed itself to death.    
  
He had evacuated the lab while some of the useless servants cleaned it up. Honestly, Vera had turned way too many useless people: druggies, vagrants, prattling uni girls, and retirees who had been walking Fluffy in the wrong area. She was turning people who were convenient. The three pathologists, Paige, a couple of lawyers, and one soldier on leave had been targeted and smart. She thought quantity meant more than quality, but he knew better.    
  
Emyr planned to go for the best and the brightest. He’d have to turn some of the mindless hoard, but for the most part, humans and other inferior species wouldn’t be given his gift. He was going to need food after all, people to build, to make things, to wait on him, to make sure he and Rose were properly worshipped. “Rose, oh my Rose.” There hadn’t been any glimpse of her, The Doctor, or the TARDIS all night. At least, his tech team hadn’t reported any.    
  
Emyr had spent the majority of the night making a list of where he would start with the virus. It had to be somewhere strategic, but inconspicuous. It also couldn’t be anywhere that would cause a paradox for himself or Rose. He had six notebooks full, but he needed the TARDIS in order to plot out the most exact location. A familiar wave of dizziness struck him, just as he was dragging the rag over his face.    
  
_ The Doctor was stroking the bare stomach of the blonde woman, and her arm was thrown over her face. She was whimpering softly, because he had left the bed to pop into the loo. “Shhh, Rose. I’m here.” Her arm slid away from her face, and this time she wasn’t featureless. Rose, his Rose, blinked up at him. She smiled drowsily, and her wedding rings sparkled in the dim lights of the bedroom as she reached for his face. “Did you see more?”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No...no...Daleks.” She closed her eyes again, reaching under the sheets to stroke his bare thighs. She hummed in contentment as she shifted closer, and her hair fell back to reveal a small, fresh red mark on her shoulder. Through the bond, he felt her drowsy arousal begin to unfurl, playful and light when his fingers slid along her skin. “What time’s it?” Rose whispered, kissing his chest.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Half past three local time. You should sleep more, love.” He tried not to let his body respond as she shifted her hand higher on his thigh. “You’ve only been asleep for seven hours. Humans need at least eight, hmmmm hours.” He sighed as her fingers found their destination with a lazy stroke.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Not fully human, ‘member?” Oh he remembered, how could he not with the way Time was glistening on her skin in a golden glow, and sparkling out of her eyes when she half opened them to smile enticingly at him. “Why don’ you see if we can’ stir up any more of my memories, Doctor.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Well, when you put it like that.” He rolled her away from him until she was half reclined on her left side, and her right half was tight against him. He slid his hand down her stomach, meeting damp, warm curls, and caught her lips over her shoulder in a lingering kiss.  _ _   
_   
Emyr stumbled away from the wall, groaning as his hard length pulsed in his hand. He grunted, his release surging out into the water, and growled in frustraion. Jealous, consuming rage broiled inside of him, but then he remembered that she wasn’t being unfaithful. That had been him, and he was her husband. She had forged the bond with his younger body, and he remembered how insatiable they both had been the first few weeks when they’d done it the first time.    
  
“You, mmm, you always said no matter the face, didn’t you Rose.” Chuckling, he licked hips lips and leaned against the water slicked tiles panting. “You can’t resist me, any me. Just like you won’t resist this me.” Emyr turned off the water and grabbed a towel. His suit was filthy, but Paige had been ordered to have it washed and taken to his chambers. He was going to have to have one of the humans go fetch him a new one in the morning, because the brown just didn’t have the effect he was going for. One couldn’t dress like a sexy history professor and achieve universal domination. It just didn’t have the same effects.    
  
Throwing open his door, he stepped out. Then he sniffed, and a too musky, too pungent perfume assailed his nostrils. “My Liege.” An unfamiliar brunette girl who was in her early twenties was perched on his bed in a black, mini dress that showed way too much cleavage. “I thought perhaps you’d like to unwind after the inci-“    
  
“I could unwind by ripping your throat out.” Emyr sneered at her, as her sultry smile faltered. “I thought I made it clear, None of you are anything compared to my wife.” His fingers clenched, as he restrained the urge to fling her through the door. “Next time you even think I would even consider you, I’ll tie you up and let her rip your throat out. Now get out!” The woman flew from the room, and Emyr tossed his towel aside and fell onto the bed.    
  
He wasn’t tired, but right now his labs were being scrubbed. He lost two of his pathologists, one to being eaten, the other had slipped on the blood and broke her neck, and the last was dosed with a heavy sedative because he wouldn’t stop screaming after what had occured. He couldn’t exactly pace the warehouse and tunnels, because they led to nowhere. He didn’t have Rose to distract him, because she was off shagging his younger self.    
  
So he sank into his own mind, running through his plans. Earth would be first, of course. He’d have to take over places like U.N.I.T and Torchwood, because they posed the biggest threat of being revealed. From there, he’d maybe start a war or two to distract the masses from what was going on, to get the world leaders distracted. Then, using his TARDIS, he, Rose, and a select few of his finest followers would get to every world leader at the exact same time and infect them. It would be glorious.    
  
He was so deep in his plans, in how splendidly exquisite it was going to be, that he barely noticed the natural weakening that meant the sun was over the horizon, or the movement of Paige hanging his suit on the inside of his door an hour after that. Emyr moved off the bed to dress, running background plots on how to develop some way to make he and Rose immune to those effects. They couldn’t have weaknesses. It wouldn’t do at all. Then, a rapid knock broke his concentration. “What is it?!” He snarled, knotting his tie and running his tongue over his teeth in his reflection.   
  
“My Liege, guards have alerted us that Her Majesty is approaching the warehouse.” Paige spoke from the otherside. “They want to know if she is to be captured.”    
  
“Is she alone?” He felt his hearts thrill in desire and victory, as he opened the door. Emyr knew she would come. Paige avoided his gaze, like a good girl, and swallowed.    
  
“Yes, but she’s acting strange. It’s like she isn’t aware you rule us. She says she’ll give herself up to our king, if we release the Doctor.”    
  
“I knew she remembered something, but obviously she doesn’t remember I was turned. Oh, this is brilliant!” Emyr laughed at the absolute perfection of the moment. “Let her come in to the warehouse, you, umm, Waldo.” He snapped at a nearby guard whose name he didn’t even care to learn. “Huey.” He snapped at another. “Come with me. You, Paige, get guards at all access points. If you see a man dressed like a wanna be Byronic hero, capture him. Don’t kill him, just knock him out and tie him up.” With that, he strode down to lay his trap.    
  
_ They aren’t searching me. _ Rose informed the Doctor through the bond.  _ Not that I’m complaining, but I figured they would.  _ _   
_   
_ The Brigadier and I agree that most of these guards inside aren’t trained _ . The Doctor replied, but Rose could feel his anxiety at being so far from her.  _ Did they buy your act? Do they think you believe he’s a prisoner? _ _   
_   
_ I think so. They haven’t cuffed me. In fact, they seem afraid to touch me. _ Although this one. She sent him a clear image of the balding man escorting her on the right.  _ Won’ stop sniffin’ me. I’d slap him, if I didn’t think he’d drink me _ .    
  
_ Why do I get the impression you’ve slapped me before?  _ The Doctor mused lightly in her mind, all too obvious in his attempt to keep her distracted from her nerves and relaxed.    
  
_ Not me, but my mum’s rung your bell once or twice _ . Rose swallowed the snicker rising in her throat, as she was escorted down some sort of loading ramp into a network of vaguely familiar dark tunnels. Her mind started to itch with a slight burn, almost like the time the Doctor had accidentally tugged her into a copse of bushes to hide, and she’d stuck her hand in that planet’s equivalent of fire ants. They had been much smaller, so their bites hadn’t been as painful as real ants.  _ He’s close. I can feel him _ .    
  
_ The Brigadier and his men are in position, and I’m locking on to your position now. He sent her a reassuring wave of affection. Just Remember the plan.  _ _   
_   
_ I remember all three plans, Doctor _ . She sent him the mental equivalent of an eyeroll which earned her a chuckle in response.  _ Seeing as how plan A never works. _ The syringe taped to her forearm under her jacket was suddenly far more noticeable, and she hoped nobody with her had any idea.  _ You remember what to do if it doesn’t right?  _ _   
_   
_ Considering how you bit my shoulder when I was inserting the emergency subdermal injector in your chest, how could I forget _ . The Doctor snorted indignantly, and Rose was suddenly hyper aware of the tiny, signals activate device nestled snuggly under her skin. In the event she was bitten or somehow infected with the virus, he would activate it. Then the cure would pump into her bloodstream.    
  
Her mind really began to burn now, and she felt him reach out to stroke it softly.  _ I’m not afraid, Doctor.  _ _   
_   
_ I know. Just, be on guard. _ His warning was unnecessary, but it came just in time. The guards opened a door and shoved her inside.    
  
She was in some sort of room, with a line of abandoned computers off to one side. Beyond that was a window, covered in thick black material. From this angle, she could see just a hit of sunlight, like she was looking out of a basement. Her gaze didn’t linger on that, because it was drawn to the crumpled figure against a wall. The brown pinstripe coat was open, tie loose and askew, and his hair wasn’t ruffled up in his usual glory. “Doctor?” She breathed, hope warring with reality, and she was six steps to him when the Doctor warned her wordlessly to be cautious.    
  
“Rose.” Caramel chocolate eyes fluttered open, and he staggered to his feet. “Rose!” She wanted to back up, to keep her distance, because no matter how weakly he was smiling, how haggard he made his voice, there was no love in his eyes. It was burning, possessive greed. “Rose, you’re here!”    
  
_ Plan A!  _ _   
_   
Forcing herself into the act, Rose finally broke from her reverie and sprinted across the room to him. He caught her as she flung her arms around his neck, careful to keep the hidden syringe away from his skin. “Doctor, oh, Doctor. I thought... I thought...” she buried her face in his shoulder, as he hugged her firmly and kissed her hair. Then, she began working the syringe free of it’s tape. “I was so scared, when I couldn’t feel you!”    
  
“Shhh, love. Shhh I’m here.” He pulled back, cupping her cheeks and wiping the tears that had burst free onto her cheeks in spite of how she tried to keep them restrained. “Why are you here? Did you find the TARDIS?” Oh, he was such a good actor when he really tried.    
  
“No, I... I passed out. When I woke up, the TARDIS was gone. I been tryin’ to remember where you were.” Rose sniffed hard, feeling the hard plastic of the syringe in her hand as she clutched it to her thigh and stroked his cool cheek with her other. He smiled, pressing his cool cheek to her palm.    
  
_ You’re a really good actress.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Shut up! _ __   
  
Then the man before her frowned, eyes blown wide. “If you didn’t find the TARDIS, why are you here! You can’t be here!” He grabbed her by the arms and shook her lightly. “I told you to not to come back without the cure!”    
  
“Some men attacked me. They said their king wanted me, in exchange for you.” Slowly, she turned the syringe around, uncapping it, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders again. “Then I remembered they were vampires. I thought, if I could free you.” She held his gaze, hoping against all hope this would work, that plan A would actually work for once.    
  
“You reckless, crazy woman!” He gave an exasperated sigh that seemed to dark, too hungry, and kissed her. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, as her mind burned, and tried to jam the needle into his neck.    
  
“Like this! Reckless!” Emyr reached up and stopped Rose’s wrist. He didn’t hurt her, just pulled it away and plucked the syringe from her hand. “When you lie, your right ear turns pink. Did you know that.” He laughed, because this was why he’d fallen in love with her. Rose would do anything to save someone, even if it meant risking herself. “Oh, the king wanted you, my love. I’m the king.”    
  
He knew she knew the truth, because there was no shock in her eyes. Emyr stared into them, and he imagined he could see a pair of long forgotten steel grey eyes staring through them at him in shock and horror. “Doctor, please.” Rose whimpered softly. He wasn’t hurting her, because she was the one person he never would. “Not yet. I need time!”    
  
“We have all the time in the universe.” Emyr pressed the plunger on the syringe and heard the unnecessary cure squirt to the floor. He tossed it away, and took her by the other wrist that she had balled up in an attempt to punch him. “Now, let me show you to our chambers.” Her swallow was audible, and he took great care to not cause her any pain, as he shifted her arms behind her back and marched her to the doors.    
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Love of the Wolf

Rose swallowed as the door to the the room shut. It was obvious that it had once been some sort of office with a small built in ensuite, possibly for an overnight security shift. It was bare, except for a bed, a desk covered in notebooks and his specs, and a chair. She heard the lock slick shut and rubbed her wrists although he hadn’t hurt in the least. She didn’t know what he was planning. Why get her alone if he wanted to turn her? “Doctor-“    
  
“My name is Emyr Chronos now.” His hands came to rest softly on her shoulders, and, for the first time in the entire time she’d known him, Rose flinched away. “Oh, don’t do that.” His fingers fell to her shoulders again. “I won’t hurt you.”    
  
_ Keep him talking, love, while I try to lock onto you again. The Brigadier is getting his men into position. Their perception filters will be activated once they are _ .    
  
“Tell him I said hello.” Emyr chuckled, as he began easing her jacket down her shoulders. Rose’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “Your lip twitches when you communicate through the bond, and I saw him pull you onto that motorbike.” He knew Rose’s body, every twitch, every shift, better than his own. She was afraid, but she had no reason to be. “And some memories I forgot I had have begun resurfacing.”    
  
“You remember?” Rose’s voice was that strained, tense sound that she got when they were pinned down by a monster. She was trying to shift her coat back up. “Doctor, Why did you bring me in here alone.” Oh he had his reasons, but it wasn’t what she was thinking. “Are you goin’ to punish me, for the memories, because He’s you, and it-“    
  
“I’m not punishing you for making love to your husband when you were under stressed and afraid.” Rose relaxed just a bit, as the Doc, no Emyr’s, fingers stilled and he stopped trying to remove her clothes. “Turn around, love.” Swallowing, she did her best to keep her mind open so the Doctor could hear what was going on without giving away they were talking. She turned, meeting his gaze head on although the cold hunger in them was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen. “I didn’t bring you in here to punish you, or hurt you. I brought you in here, because I’d have to kill anyone who looked at you naked.”    
  
“‘Nd why would I be naked?” Rose resisted the temptation to look back at the bed. She didn’t want him, not like this, not when he wasn’t the Doctor. Her heart was pounding, and she knew he could hear it. His eyes blew wider, and he licked his lips with a hum.    
  
“Because, I know how much you love this shirt and jacket. I don’t want to get them bloody when I turn you.” Rose jerked away from his grasp, as the Doctor broiled protective anger over the bond. “Don’t be afraid, Rose. Look, it won’t hurt, not like when Vera infected me.” She could practically feel the Doctor’s finger on the trigger for her cure, and she could see his other hand on the dematerialization lever. Emyr picked up one of the notebooks to reveal a tray with a syringe. “Local anesthetic. I’ll just inject it into your neck, and you won’t feel the bite.”    
  
“How many people have you killed?” Emyr froze at her question. It surprised him, but he should have expected it. Rose was so compassionate. “Huh?” He turned, offering her a reassuring smile. There was a reason he’d stayed so restrained, to prove to her that she didn’t need to fear him. He knew how to make her say yes.    
  
“None.” He held her gaze, letting her see the truth and honesty in his eyes. “I haven’t even bitten anyone yet. I swear-“    
  
“No, you’ll have to swear on something that matters.” Rose’s voice was firm, though he could see and smell she was afraid. He had planned for this, knew she was just biding time for the calvary to come in. He could see it on her face, that the Doctor was begging her to let him come save her, to end the monster. She thought this body had had a hero complex, oh she had no idea about that one.    
  
“Barcelona.”    
  
Rose knew he meant it. She could see the sunset over the water the purple ocean, his long coat billowing as the wind ripped up the cliff. His smile as they stood hand in hand, as the city below them celebrated being saved from the invaders. It had been a smile she hadn’t recognized, as he looked down at her, drew a breath, and lowered his lips to hers for their first true kiss. For just a moment, Emyr’s eyes softened as he reached out and touched her hair, and the pain in her mind disappeared for a breath. Her husband was still in there.    
  
_ Rose, don’t! I’m coming to get you!  _ _   
_ _   
_ __ I’ll distract him, save the others first .    
  
“I believe you.” Emyr laughed in victory as Rose shed her jacket and tossed it aside. Then her shirt joined it, and his laughter died at the two blatant love bites on her neck and chest. “If you love me, you can’ be jealous over that. It was you, remember. I can’ stop myself with you, any you.”    
  
“You’re right.” Rose knew she was taking a risk. She knew that this was dangerous, that he may lose control. If he did, well, it was worth it. She had to save the others, and in order for U.N.I.T. and the Doctor to get to them and inject the cure, their leader had to be distracted. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy a few of the memories.” She held herself steady as he uncapped the needle. “When we bond again, nothing will stop us.”    
  
“Just do it. Don’ wait for the anesthetic.” Emyr froze, as her voice cracked. “Do it, so I can stop being scared of you! I’ve been so lost ‘nd confused. My mind is on fire jus’ bein’ near you. You’re hurtin’ me, ‘nd you said you wouldn’ so make it stop.” Pain ripped his chest, as he saw how she was trembling. His mind had been burning too, but he’d never considered she could feel it.   
  
“I’m sorry. I thought being bonded with him was...” For the first time, the lethal calm in his voice fractured, and Rose knew she had to act. She plunged her hand into his hair, dragging him down to her neck. “Damn it, you smell like power, and blood, and time.” His chilly lips were oddly soothing against her adrenaline heated skin. “I’ll be quick.” She felt his lips part, his arms wrap around her like he’d done a thousand times, and then his teeth tore into her skin. In her mind she saw the Doctor press the trigger, and in her chest she felt the cure shoot into her veins. Then her mind registered the pain as he sucked hard and pulled her close with a guttural moan. She knew she couldn’t scream.   
  
Rose didn’t taste like the blood Emyr had drank before. She was far more delicious, wild, burning on his tongue and throat, but smooth like the universe’s best whiskey. He knew she had to be in pain, because he had been when Vera’s men had held him down for her to bite him, but Rose wasn’t screaming. No, she was ripping off his tie begging for more. He sucked deeper, head spinning at the deliciousness of his wife’s transformation. “Don’ wanna feel the pain. Please, love, make it feel good.” Her hand cupped him with a singleminded urgency, and he knew what to do.    
  
Rose was focusing through the burning pain, both in her mind and body. She knew the Doctor was sensing this all, and it hurt her soul. Still, she let herself be lifted and carried to the small bed, willing the cure that would save her Doctor to move faster through her blood. He was hard against her now, hands as insistent as his sucks, and she squinted back the burning, until, the man called Emyr froze. He gave a testing suck, and then froze again. “What have you done?!” He roared, falling back, clutching his chest. The voice was different, but the question was the same.    
  
“I want you safe, my Doctor.”    
  
Emyr stared in horror at Rose, his head spinning the room in and out of focus. He could feel a different kind of burning flooding his throat and stomach now, not her blood, but something else. It was cloying on his tongue, tightening his stomach, and then he heard the shouts in the hall, the whizzing cracks of gunfire. “No!” He bellowed, stumbling into the wall as he raced for the door. A slight weight barreled into him from behind, knocking him to the floor.    
  
“Let us save you!” Rose’s neck was on fire, and she could feel the battle for dominance warring in her veins. Still she struggled against the man who was her husband, who would be her Doctor again, trying to keep him pinned to the floor. He freed his hands, rolling her off, but she didn’t miss how even in his rage he caught her head awkwardly so it wouldn’t crash into the hard cement. “I know you’re in there!”    
  
Emyr left Rose where she lay, ripping the door open to dash into the hall. A U.N.I.T soldier lay dead on the floor, his throat ripped out. A gun similar to those used to tranquilize an animal at long distances was abandoned at his side. Just beyond him lay Paige, a syringe in her chest as she howled in agony and vomited red froth. He leaped over her, rage coursing in his veins as he barreled down the hall. A wave of dizziness crashed into him, and his stomach turned wildly.    
  
More and more of his followers were crouched, sprawled, or screaming as he went, pulling syringes from their skin or staring at them with a look that could only be hope. Vaguely, he registered Rose screaming his name, his true name, but he didn’t stop. Revenge was burning on his tongue.    
  
Rose staggered after him, doing her best to stay upright as the blood trickled down her throat. The Doctor was screaming at her in her mind, his words making little sense, something about staying put, and blood loss. She didn’t listen, because a new sound was tolling in her mind. It was the sound she had worked very hard to forget, an ancient bell mixed with a howling wolf.    
  
She slammed into the heavy metal doors that closed behind him, forcing them open to stumble to a stop just ahead of her. The TARDIS stood in the center of the room, her blue paint splattered with the blood of the three U.N.I.T. soldiers who had fallen against her doors. She knew instantly they had been killed by the bald man convulsing near them. The Doctor was locked in a death struggle with himself, no Emyr, over the Brigadier’s pistol. The Brigadier was on the floor, leg ripped open, attempting to load one of the syringe guns. She knew it was dangerous, knew she may burn, but she opened her mind and called out to the part of her soul she kept locked away.    
  
Emyr snarled at the steel grey eyes of the Doctor, hating the man who wore them. His eyes were so young, full of what he thought was guilt then. They would be filled with more, soon, because it was all waiting for him still. The sound of ancient engines groaning and wheezing barely made it into his ears, as a bout of dizziness and weakness coursed through him. The partial dose of the cure he’s gotten from Rose wasn’t healing him, but it was battling against his power. He lashed out, knocking the Doctor back, only to be kicked square in the gut.    
  
The pistol skidded out of reach, as they flew apart, and Emyr went for it. He beat the Doctor by millisecond, elbowing the man hard in the jaw. Then he raised it to point at the man he’d once thought a friend on the floor. The Brigadier was aiming the rifle at him, and Emyr slid his finger to the trigger. He squeezed, and shouted out too late as blonde hair and a blood stained chest moved into the line of fire and said firmly. “No more!”    
  
The Doctor watched in horror as Rose planted herself between his future self and the Brigadier with her hand outstretched. The wind whipped around him as a second TARDIS materialized with a deafening toll of cloister bells. He felt Rose over the bond, burning with a golden glow he knew but couldn’t place, and time itself slowed to a crawl as the bullet cleared the barrel of the pistol. He watched it turn in the air, straight for her, as his future self roared in disbelief.    
  
Suddenly, Rose was glowing, her eyes no longer brilliant topaz but transparent gold. She raised a hand, and the bullet slowed to a near halt. Then it dissipated into golden dust. She fixed the pinstriped man in a feral gaze, raised her other hand, and he was frozen in abject fear. “Now! Brigadier! Now! I can’ hold ‘im!” The rifle cracked, and the Doctor watched as the syringe hurtled through the air, imbedding itself needle first into his neck. Then the glowing stopped. The man bellowed out something akin to a wounded lion, as Rose smiled softly and collapsed.    
  
The Doctor raced forward to catch her, but the man beat him to her, and they crumbled together to the floor feet away from the Brigadier. The man was convulsing, but babbling to her with froth strangled murmurs as he stroked her face. “Let me have her!” The Doctor yelled at his future self, only to be rewarded with a lethal snarl.    
  
“That’s enough of that!” The Doctor jerked back as the Brigadier slammed the butt of his rifle into the man’s head, and he went limp beside the unconscious Rose. Nearby, a radio crackled, informing them that all subjects had been neutralized or killed. “What the hell just happened?!”    
  
“I have no idea. Get into my TARDIS so I can fix your leg.” The Doctor pressed his fingers to first Rose’s neck, then his future self’s. All three hearts were beating fine. Rose was unconscious over the bond, but the burning was stopping, and he breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt his future mind return to the low lying hum of a Time Lord. It was over.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. The Doctor

“Oh, my head.” The Doctor groaned as the persistent four count beating hammered into the very center of his head like a bass drum inside a balloon inside his skull. There was a clicking noise, followed by a cool trickling sensation in his arm, and in the span of four breaths The drumming faded into silence. It was then he realized, that it hadn’t been drums but his own pulse. He was also accurately aware that he was shirtless, had the distinctive taste that being unconscious left in his mouth, and that he was not alone in the room. “Rose?” He winced, as someone pulled up his heavy eyelids, shined a pin light directly into his pupils, and then let them snap shut again.    
  
“Nope.” A voice said, and a vaguely familiar sensation that he hadn’t felt in centuries was clouding his mind. He was not the only Doctor in the room, and it was making the timelines taste and smell all sticky and pear flavored. The question was, which him was it? Hopefully a past one, and not that one he pretended didn’t exist, and double hopefully not big ears and leather. “She’s still unconscious.”    
  
“What?!” Like the words were an electric shock, the Doctor tried to jump off the bed, got tangled in his IVs and wires, tripped his legs in the sheets, and crashed to the floor. “Rose! Rose!” He finally managed to get his eyes to open, even if the room was going all spinny, and he found her in a second infirmary bed, a crown of wires feeding into a monitors, and a weird, lumped together machine that was feeding blood into her body like a transfusion. Except, part of the machine was wired into a panel on the TARDIS wall, and the artron energy of the ship was being filtered into the machine as well.    
  
Automatically, he reached for their bond, but it wasn’t there. Well, it was, but it wasn’t. It was like listening over a phone line that was across the room from a radio, that was broadcasting a telegraph of a whisper. She was there, alive, safe, and recovering, but she wasn’t bonded to him, but somehow she was.   
  
The room spun again and strong hands were lifting him up, onto the bed, and pressing a stethoscope to his chest. “Where am I?” He groaned, as his stomach churned dangerously. “What happened? Holy cloisters touching myself always feels weird.” He cringed, briefly glad Rose wasn’t awake to hear that, and finally managed to make his eyes stay open. “That came out wrong.”    
  
“Great, I’m an idiot this go around.” A rich, baritone voice sighed in exasperation, and finally he swam into focus. Steel grey eyes met his, and the Doctor found himself laughing. “Almost regenerating is never funny. Why are you laughing?”    
  
“Because, I liked you. You’re one of my favorites you are.” He tried to sit up, finally managing to get himself steady. Again, his gaze fell on Rose, and now his mind was clear enough to panic. “What happened to her? What the hell is that machine? What are you doing here?”     
  
“Giving her blood, but since her blood is literally full of Artron energy, she was rejecting human blood. I had to improvise.” Waistcoated version sounded rather cross with him, and the Doctor didn’t understand why. What the hell was going on? “And I’m here, because the only person capable of stopping the Doctor is the Doctor.” With a scathing look, he shoved him back down and breezed over to stroke Rose’s hair from her face lovingly. Being jealous of himself seemed completely absurd, but he wanted to knock the man in the jaw.    
  
The Doctor knew the moment the skinny idiot processed all of his words, because he sucked in a breath and whispered. “What did I do?” He ignored him, in order to focus on turning off the blood machine he’d rigged up and slide the needle from Rose’s arm. “Answer me!” He checked the bandage on her neck, relaxing as the jagged bite was now beginning to scab over. He felt the hand on his shoulder, hard, fuzzing up the time lines. “What... What happened to her?! What happened to my wife?!”    
  
He spun on the man, not buying the clueless act for a minute, until he saw his unspoken accusation slap the tall, wild eyed man back until he collided with the tray of instruments. “You really don’t remember anything, anything at all from the last two days?” The idiot man stared at Rose, covering his mouth with one hand and pulling at his hair with the other.    
  
There was something in his expression, not memories of what had happened, but a soul deep pain that the Doctor didn’t understand. Then it came to him, like a dream of a dream of a premonition: fire, screaming, pain, blood, soldiers regenerating only to be snuffed from existence was their great grandparents were killed before they loomed any children, and Daleks. They came from the man frozen against the wall, wearing a face younger than his but with eyes as old as the universe. It was gone, all traces erased from his thoughts with a broken whisper   
  
“Me, I did... I did that to her? I hurt Rose?”   
  
“No, a vampire named Emyr did.” The Doctor knew the man dragging his hands down his face was the Doctor, was his future self, but he saw the unspoken question as he stared at his hands. “The Brigadier killed him, with Rose’s help. She saved you.”    
  
“She’s bonded with you? I can feel it. I can see it. You can’t stop touching her.” The Doctor hadn’t realized he’d settled onto Rose’s bed and was rubbing her hand with his gently. Haunted, ancient eyes held his with all the confidence of a worn torn veteran. “I... I was Emyr, wasn’t I? Don’t lie to me!”    
  
“Yes.” The Doctor sucked in a breath, tears and regret punching him in the gut. “But, you didn’t kill anyone! You didn’t even infect anyone yourself! It looked like you were planning some Earth domination, but Rose, she-“ He tried to remember, tried to force the blank spots in his mind into images. He had none, like the hours he’d spent in comas after his last two regenerations. “You didn’t even want to hurt her.” The wavy hair pounce lowered Rose’s hand and stood, crossing the infirmary room to stare up at him. “You wanted to use anesthetic so she wouldn’t feel the bite, but she wouldn’t give you the time.”    
  
“Show me. I can’t remember, and I can’t handle not remembering. The last time....” He let his voice trail off. The Doctor knew being together would throw the time lines out of sync, and his younger self wouldn’t retain the memories, but he still couldn’t burden him with what was to come. “Please. Don’t hold back.” Making sure to keep all traces of the Time War, of that barn, he held his palm in front of him, trying to pull his eyes away from Rose’s unmoving form. His hand, two hundred years younger, raised up to meet his. “Contact.” Their palms met.    
  
There was something to be said about merging thoughts with a future and past version of one’s self. It makes things get a bit tangled, discombobbled, as they try not to get entangled or lost or forget which images are memories and which are the future. It took a few seconds for them to untangle themselves into two separate entities once more. When they did, however, hazy, once forgotten now twice remembered images began to flow.    
  
_ The Doctor was settling down in his chair in the console room, a cup of freshly steeped tea on the table to his left, to finally finish H.G. Wells’ ‘The Time Machine’. He’d been trying to read it for three hundred years, but had never managed to make it past the first sentence before things went to hell. The TARDIS was napping, finally finished brooding and licking the wounds that the Master had left while he was clawing inside her eye of Harmony.  He had finally gotten a proper, post regeneration nap, had tracked down a much cleaner and better fitting version of the clothes he’d swiped in New York, and he opened the book. The TARDIS doors flew open.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ His ship rang out indignation at this intruder who had somehow managed to bypass her locks, the audacity of her species not existing in her database, and wrongness as two slivers of her soul existing simultaneously but separately inside of her. The Doctor felt her reach out to give the intruder a telepathic what for. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Not now!” The intruder shouted, and the Doctor dropped his book as a flurry of blonde hair, jeans, a short coat, and blood tainted perfume whipped past him, eyes hell bent on the corridor that would lead down to his labs and workshops. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Stop her!” He told the TARDIS, as he leapt to his feet. To his horror and surprise, his ship materialized a wooden globe and promptly dropped it on the woman’s now upturning head. He tried to grab her, but missed as the globe collided with her forehead, sent her careening back, and her skull gave a resounding crack against the wooden floor. Skidding to his knees, he got a brief view of intense, stunned amber eyes, before they rolled back into her skull and closed.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then he was in the infirmary, trying to find out who and what she was. She was whispering his name, twitching on the sheets, tears leaking down her face. He couldn’t calm her, couldn’t wake her, so he delved into her thoughts. There was the underlying shock of realizing his thoughts had been there, that the severed bond was one of love, of utter trust, and that she was his future wife. She fought him, until he said he was the Doctor, and she clamped down on his thoughts like a drowning person to a life preserver. Their fused to each other with a bruising kiss, and then she finally woke up.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He was trying to sift through her memories, as she lay unconscious in his arms, as she was showering in his room, as they sat beside each other in the galley. They were the black sludge of severance sickness amnesia. They were walking down the streets, trying to find anything to spark her memories. He thought of U.N.I.T. and kissed her in his exuberance, her previously mostly worried but partly flirtatious behavior morphed into stunned wonder. She was terrified of not knowing, and she kissed him. It was like every failure he’d known was forgiven as long as their lips touched.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Across the bond, she was a stranger in her own mind, clinging to the happiness that kept her going, made her feel safe, and he couldn’t resist her whispered request. Thoughts and bodies moved together, and for the first time the Doctor gave credence to the stories of soulmates. He briefly relieved the same thought over two hundred years later in the same bed but with her sleeping peacefully wrapped in a blue, button down shirt.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ She woke up crying, terrified as she recovered partial memories that had chilled his blood when he saw them. She only slept when he tucked her thoughts in one of the pleasant memories of his childhood. He tried to make sense of it all, to figure out through her shattered images on where he was, and what had happened to him. Then she woke again, mumbling about Daleks, needing her husband to give her something to combat the fears. Again, he was powerless to resist her touch, not that he’d wanted to.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Finally, she woke in his arms, shaking, sobbing, as it all came back. Her fury as the Brigadier suggested she stay back with him, the plans hatched in the last hour and a half of night.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Finally, he saw through her thoughts and his, as she kissed him a passionate goodbye that held a whole promise of a future. He was circling the console, aching to act. She was afraid and hopeful, approaching the warehouse in the morning mist. She was facing a man who wore his face, but called himself Emyr, and she burned with fear, but her hope and determination were brighter. He pleaded with her to let him get her out.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then he was activating the cure in her blood, sending the TARDIS careening to the rescue of hundreds. She was demanding he bite her now, to make it stop. She was implying the pain and fear in her mind, but she meant the virus in his blood. She was distracting Emyr, pulling him closer, not caring about the pain because her Doctor was trapped inside him, and she knew she could save him. He was shocked at how tender and soft Emyr was trying to make it all. He was firing a rifle loaded with the cure into the neck and chest of everyone he rushed towards him.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Then, Emyr burst into the room, and they were fighting for the life of the Brigadier and the claim to her heart and mind. Emyr bested him, barely, and he watched as the pistol came down to aim at the the Brigadier. She burst into the room, glowing golden, as a second TARDIS whipped into existence. He saw the trigger pull, through his eyes and through Rose’s mind. The Doctor felt her burn, heard the howling and the cloister bell toll a warning. She bent time around her, and he felt her love focus like a bubbled shield around her and Emyr. The bullet disappeared, and she was flickering into unconsciousness in his mind. A rifle cracked, and Emyr howled as She collapsed.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He carried her into the grungier TARDIS, then he was dragging himself along. A quick patch up of the Brigadier in his own TARDIS, followed by an activation to take the Brigadier back to unit, and then he was tending to Rose and the slowly returning Doctor.  _ __   
  
“There’s a joke about touchin’ yourself, but Jack’s not around ta make it.” A soft voice broke the link, and the Doctor looked over to see Rose watching them with a smile. “Tha’ or he’d ask if my wish worked when I blew out my birthday candles.”    
  
“You’re awake!” The Doctor rushed forward to try to stop her from sitting up too quickly, but she wasn’t looking at him. As she untangled her hair from the wires, her eyes were fixated on the Doctor standing stock still a few paces behind him, tears staining his pale face.


	11. Reconnections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but intimate

_Could you maybe go to the bedroom and get me some clean clothes?_ Rose sent the words as gently as she could over the bond, unable to tear her eyes away from her husband who was wearing the same face he did anytime he remembered how many children were on Gallifrey. _Please?_ __  
  
_That’s_ _the_ _least_ _rudest_ _way_ _I’ve_ _been_ _asked_ _to_ _get_ _lost_. The younger Doctor chuckled with affection, but he kissed her softly on her brow and made his way from the room. She didn’t miss the jaw clench and the hard swallow from the shirtless Doctor watching it all.  
  
“Come here, Doctor.” Rose wanted to stand, but she was still blindly pulling wires off her bare skin. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head, and backing impossibly closer to the wall. Her eyes stung, as he avoided her gaze, and letting out a shaky sob. “Please, or ‘m gettin’ up out of this bed. ‘Ll probably trip over somethin’ ‘nd you’ll end up catchin’ me. So let’s jus’ skip that part.” There it was, just a brief twitch of a smile, but he stared off to the right. “Doctor, ‘ve jus’ been through hell. I need my husband to come hold me.”  
  
“I’ll go fetch him.” The Doctor started towards the door. Rose grabbed the dermal regenerator and chunked it at his head. “Ow! Hey! What’d you do that for?!” Finally, he spun around, rubbing his head with a grimace.  
  
“Because you’re bein’ a bloody idiot. Get over here ‘nd talk to me.”  
  
The Doctor dragged himself across the room to stand beside Rose’s bed. He couldn’t look at her, not now that he knew what he had done. The absence of her presence in his mind was a constant reminder of his crimes. “What’s there to talk about? I hurt people. I hurt-“ The words caught in his throat as Rose scratched the bandage on her neck with a hiss. “I hurt you. I made you channel Bad Wolf again. I could have killed you.” Avoiding her eyes, because he knew the only thing he’d find there was forgiveness, he looked down at the tray of discarded medical instruments.  
  
“It wasn’t you. You weren’ in control, love.” She took his hand, and he tried to pull it away, but she clung to it firmly. “‘Nd you didn’t hurt me. Emyr-“ He cringed at the name, even as Rose tugged his hand hard to pull him down beside her. “He hurt me, but you... I could see you fightin’ inside Doctor. You wouldn’ let him rough handle me. Even when I tackled him, you made sure be didn’ even let me hit my head.” The softness in Rose’s voice only made the guilt worse.  
  
“He did that.” Briefly, the Doctor flicked his eyes to the bandage on her neck. “And probably killed-“  
  
“No, you wouldn’ let ‘im. I asked if he killed anyone, ‘nd he swore he didn’. I made him swear on somethin’ that mattered.” Rose’s other hand grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to hers. The Doctor felt the shame and guilt burn even harder at the unconditional love and forgiveness pouring from them. “He swore on Barcelona, ‘nd I saw you in his eyes, Doctor. You were beggin’ me to get you out.” Her thumb brushed his cheek softly, making him swallow. He wanted to look away, but Rose was holding his hand and face with soft command.  
  
“What if he lied-“  
  
“He didn’. He thought he had me trapped, completely at his mercy. Yet, you wouldn’ let him, not when I tried to inject him, or punch him, or even fight him. Tha’ wasn’ him, Doctor. That was you. You were tellin’ me you were in there ‘nd you were scared.” Rose needed him to understand, to erase the soul clenching guilt that she had spent years trying to heal him of. She wouldn’t let him drown in it now, not when he hadn’ been in control. Releasing his hand, she shifted her knees under herself and pulled his lips to hers.  
  
Jealousy flashed across the bond, from the Doctor snooping around the bedroom, and she batted it away. The one with tear soaked lips tried to pull away, but Rose refused to let him. She pressed her lips to his with more urgency, pulling his arms around her. When the Doctor held them limply against her, she pulled back and whispered the two things she knew he could never resist. “There’s me.” Followed by his true name.  
  
“Rose, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” The Doctor felt his half baked decision to punish himself by denying himself the love she was offering him crumble under her words. When Rose kissed him again, with the same unwavering affection she used every time four and a half billion screams woke him up, he pulled her half onto his lap. It held a soothing familiarity, the way her fingers stroked his bare shoulders, and her lips moved under his without any other intent than to calm him. The only thing that felt wrong about it all, was the lack of the bond.  
  
Then again, wasn’t this how their relationship had bloomed to begin with. He’d finally confessed his war crimes to her, when he’d been staring down at a bandolier some Barcelonian soldier had shoved into his hands as they waited in a bunker for the airstrike to subside. She hadn’t said anything more than ‘sometimes Doctors have ta cut off a limb to save the patient.’ Twenty hours of dodging lasers and successfully scaring off the invaders later, he’d finally let himself believe that she wasn’t going anywhere, and that he couldn’t not love her. That kiss, on the cliffs of Barcelona had not been with a bond, nor had each kiss, each night in her arms, for months.  
  
“There’s nothin’ for me to forgive.” Rose whispered, as she pulled back to stroke his face. “‘Nd, when you do start to remember, Doctor, I’ll keep remindin’ you that it wasn’ you.” He sighed when she coaxed his eyes open with a kiss to his forehead. The Doctor sucked his breath in at the never wavering love and affection in her eyes. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Rose breathed out a sigh of relief when the Doctor hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. She rubbed his back and pressed her face in his shoulder as he gave her soft, repetitive squeezes. The bond shimmered with affection and more than a hint of feeling left out, as she caught a glimpse of the younger Doctor flipping through their Earth wedding album he’d found in the bedroom. The Doctor holding her kissed her hair, before whispering in her ear. “He’s prettier than me. Sure you don’t like him better?”  
  
“He’s you, so I like you both the same.” The Doctor knew he’d have to face this guilt more, but for now, Rose was shivering from having nothing on but knickers and his cool skin. “Honestly, ‘m not gonna have my husband bein’ jealous of himself.” He couldn’t help but smile as she eased from his lap. “That sounds as weird as it feels. Oi, younger version. I asked for clothes. D’ya mind?” He watched as she rolled her eyes and her lip twitched in the tell tale sign of Bondspeak. “Thank you.”  
  
“I love you, Rose Tyler.” The Doctor pulled her into his side to rest his cheek on her hair, and he relaxed just enough when she wrapped her arms around his waist. He’d cope with the guilt later.  
  
“I love you too, Doctor.”


	12. Farewells and New Friends

“The desktop is glitching!” Her older Doctor shouted, and Rose giggled at the TARDIS’ console sparked and the room shifted into various designs. He wiggled a switch, which only resulted in a brown out that eventually lightened into a completely open and bright ‘movie set’ looking control room.   
  
“Well try the graphic anomaly acclimatizer!” Younger version barked, twirling a dial, but now the time rotor shrunk away from the ceiling and turned pink. “No! That’s the fifth time zone’s! Come on!” He flipped a switch, and more sparks erupted.    
  
“Boys!” Rose tried to get their attention over the cacophony, but they were as distracted and frantic as primary boys who’s science project was on fire. The TARDIS wasn’t glitching, because she was basically having a sneezing fit as their two distinct but coinciding timelines tickled her. “Boys! Boys! Stop!” She dashed forward, hands falling on the paradox determination sensors. She turned it to the left, reducing the power feed to it. “You’re tickling her!” Rose grabbed the fixed point casualty contrafibulator and slid the lever up, increasing the energy flow to stabilize the readings.   
  
They were plunged into darkness for a breath, but when the lights returned, the console room Rose knew and loved was back to normal. She flopped down on the cracked jumpseat and grinned, as her Doctors stared at her in shock. “She was sneezin’, not glitchin’. Don’ you ever listen to her?” The two men shared sheepish looks, and then cleared their throats simultaneously. “S’actly.”    
  
“How did she know how to do that?” The Doctor looked over at his older incarnation, who was flipping space shift coordinates.    
  
“She shares part of the TARDIS’ soul, and as amazing as that sounds, the TARDIS actually took on some of her traits too.” He ruffled his spiked hair, looking over at their wife who was watching them with smug amusement. “Seems like a fun ability, but having a row means I get hell from both of them.” The Doctor winced internally. Then the TARDIS began to jerk in the tell tale chaos of flight.    
  
“Worth it though.” The Doctor grinned, although the guilt of the slowly returning memories were beginning to gnaw at him. He was doing his best not to let it show, but years of being with Rose, her loving presence coaxing him into opening up after the War, had made it difficult to pull the mask into place. “You’ll see.”   
  
“So where are we going?” Rose had jumped up to wiggle herself between them, taking their hands.    
  
“Back to my TARDIS, at U.N.I.T. The longer we spend in the same time zone, the more risks we run.” The Doctor kissed her hair, ignoring the glare from his older self. He couldn’t feel her mind like before, because the Bond had become blurred and erratic.    
  
“We have time for lunch? ‘M starved!” Rose squeezed the Doctor’s hand, and he felt the pointless jealousy over himself subside a bit. The TARDIS stabilized with a shudder, and he flipped on the parking break.    
  
“Yes. Come on, let’s go update the Brigadier.” Rose let the waistcoated Doctor tug her along, and she dragged her taller one along with her. They emerged into the foyer area outside the Brigadier’s office, and she giggled when she caught sight of the other TARDIS parked in a corner.    
  
“Doctor, Mrs. Tyler, it’s been two days. I was beginning to worry.” The Brigadier came out of his office, looking as striking and professional as always. Rose separated herself from her husbands’ hands and went to hug the old soldier with a grin.    
  
“Was only about twelve hours for us. Sorry to worry you.” She pulled back to look over her shoulders at the Doctors who were both studiously avoiding each other. “Makes your eyes twist, seein’ two of ‘em, doesn’ it?”    
  
“Better than three of them. I had a migraine for three days after Cromer.”   
The Brigadier gave a wry smile as he shook his head. “The paperwork was a nightmare.” He extended his hand towards  a meeting room, where Rose saw a nice spread of sandwiches and other nibbles on a table. “I was prepared just in case though.”    
  
“Husbands! Food!”   
  
The Doctor followed Rose and the Brigadier into the conference room. He was hoping to avoid being cornered by his younger self, but Rose was already deep in conversation with the Brigadier with that easy way she drew everyone in. He snagged a sandwich and tried to make himself look occupied. Of course, he couldn’t fool himself, so he was not surprised by the smooth. “So, I know how we meet her. I gathered enough from her nightmares of how she became what she is, but no mention from her about how Gallifrey reacted to her.” The bite of sandwich in his mouth turned to cardboard, and he swallowed it down.    
  
“She’s never been.” The Doctor watched his future self try to mask a look akin to being kicked in the gut. “I can’t ever go back to Gallifrey.” There was a gravity behind his words that he didn’t understand, but when his brown eyes shifted to Rose, he lightened some.    
  
“Finally got myself officially banned, did I? I knew they’d do it eventually.”    
  
“Something like that.” The older version of himself managed to shrug and smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew himself well enough to know when he was lying, but it also didn’t seem quite like a lie either. It had gross understatement written all over it. “You’ll experience it soon enough, and I don’t want to ruin the obvious good mood of the room.” He gestured at Rose who was watching them with eagle eyes.    
  
“So, let’s talk about something else.” The Doctor relaxed as  his younger version changed the subject. “You think accidentally knocking him into the Eye got rid of him for good?”    
  
“Well, I haven’t seen him since, so maybe.” The Doctor jumped on the change of subject, dragging himself into a line of conversation that didn’t drudge up too many bad memories.    
  
“I’ve know the Doctor a long time, Mrs. Tyler.” Rose smiled at the Brigadier as she picked up a grape. “I don’t mean to pry, but I do count him as a friend. That being said, I’ve been a soldier long enough to see the effects war has on a man.” She felt her throat tighten, as she lowered the grape. “The Doctor isn’t a soldier, but his eyes, his posture, they say different.”   
  
“There was a war, and yes, he had to fight in it.” Rose swallowed hard, wondering how much she could say. She knew she couldn’t tell him everything, not the darkest moment, but maybe enough to explain why the Doctor had chosen to erase the connections to the man he had been before. “He had no choice, because the Daleks ‘nd the Time Lords were going to destroy the universe. He won the war, ‘nd defeated the Daleks, but he had to make choices that were impossible. He’s still the Doctor, ‘nd that’s what matters.”    
  
“I can detect a subtle end of subject there.” The Brigadier leaned back in his chair and stared over at the men. “I never understood how they manage to have conversations when there’s more than one. If they’re the same man, wouldn’t the older one remember the conversation?”    
  
“When they cross timezones, they can’ retain the memories except in flashes. So no, he doesn’ always remember.” Rose giggled as she remembered asking the exact same question while she was getting dressed hours before. “Trust me, it hurts my brain too.” She shook her head and picked up her grape again. “But, I do need to warn you. If you see him, ‘nd I’m not with him, you can’ mention me. It may mess up the time lines.”    
  
“We have strict protocol and keep files on all his companions. It’s the first time I’ve made one for someone before they’ve been born, though.” The Brigadier gave a slight laugh that vaguely reminded Rose of her grandfather. Instinctively she reached out for her bond, only to find the fuzzy buzz of both strands of thoughts. Two blue and two brown eyes flicked to her, different but still identical smiles breaking across their faces. “If I know him as well as I think, which isn’t as well as you obviously, they’ll be ready to leave soon.”    
  
“Yeah, he has that look about him.” Rose pushed herself to her feet, as the Doctors split apart. “I’ll try to get mine to come by more, ‘nd see you.” She watched as the Doctors put their plates down and began meandering towards the door. She was loathing having to say goodbye to the younger one, but she was ready to get back to the one who had held her heart for years.    
  
“I’m actually retiring in the next few years, so he’ll have to come visit me at home.” The Brigadier took her arm in a gentlemanly manner, escorting her out behind the men. “Although, I’m hoping to get my daughter Kate to replace me, so hopefully you’ll get to meet her soon.”    
  
“I hope so too.”    
  
“Well I’m off, don’t want to risk causing some massively horrible event that accidentally destroys my own future.” The Doctor stepped away from his TARDIS to gaze at the woman who would one day be his wife. He knew it wouldn’t take long for his timeline to resynchronize and erase all this out of his memories until he was tall and in pinstripes. “My TARDIS is locking down all the events of the last few days so I won’ stumble across them.”    
  
“If I remember correctly, you’re in for quite an adventure not long after. You’ll be spending the next day or so even more confused than now.” The Doctor was getting a memory now, of him mid flight towards the early two thousands, wondering why he had just thought a blonde woman had been there. Then his ship would go haywire, and a blonde woman would appear right beside him, not the same one, but just as snarky and flirtatious and fun-loving. “You really should find out if Lucie has two middle names or not.”    
  
“Who?”    
  
“Oh, you’ll see.”    
  
Rose stepped forward to hug the Doctor, pulling apart as the timelines began creating distances between them. The bond was weakening between them even more, but it was strengthening on the end of the Doctor watching with a rueful smile. “Goodbye Doctor, see you in about two hundred years.”    
  
“I look forward to it.” The door opened behind him, and the Doctor was gone. Rose looked up at her husband, who blew out a breath and rolled his eyes.    
  
“Hurry, before he takes off!”    
  
The Doctor looked up from the controls as the door opened, and Rose came rushing in. He barely had time to react before she grabbed his lapels and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “Hmmmm, what was that for?” He stroked her cheek softly, savoring the light in her eyes as she pulled back.    
  
“You’ll find out on the Game Station. Be safe, my Doctor.” Then, she was gone.    
  
Blowing out a breath, his lips tingling as he did, the Doctor flipped the controls. His TARDIS jerked hard, roughly, and he felt his mind begin to go fuzzy. Why was he feeling so sad, like he’d just said goodbye to someone he loved? “Whoa! Easy girl!” The Doctor stumbled as the TARDIS blared and alarm. There was supposed to be someone else here, a blonde woman? What was her name, what did she look like. The TARDIS blared out a warning that her flight shields had been breached, and as he dove for the stabilizers, he saw a young blonde woman in slightly too tight clothes that looked like she may be some sort of office worker. What was she doing here, on his TARDIS? He had been alone since he regenerated. This was so strange.    
  



	13. Closing the Loop

Rose stared across the console, as the Doctor fiddled with switches that indicated he’d parked the TARDIS in the vortex. He’d been unusually quiet since they’d left the Brigadier about ten minutes before, but Rose could feel him brooding across the bond. Since his younger self had disappeared, the Bond had surged back between them like a mobile had switched from poor service to full bars.   
  
_Love you._ She sent gently too him, wanting to quell the tumult of negative emotions simmering in his mind.   
  
_Love you too._ _  
_ _  
_ __Then look at me.   
  
The Doctor lifted his eyes to find Rose watching him with all the worry and concern she’d held since he’d told her about what he’d done to end the war. How could see look at him like that, after what he’d done to her, the pain both mentally and physically-  
  
“It wasn’t you, Doctor. You were in the parts that tried to keep from hurtin’ me.” Rose came around the console as she spoke, and his guilt winced under the wave of love that she sent cascading over the bond. “In the parts that kept ‘im from killing people.” Her palm was so warm and tender when she reached up to cup his cheek. “You can’t punish yourself for it. I won’ let ya.”   
  
“How can you even stand to touch me?” He sighed, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around his Rose and let her help him forgive himself. All he could see, though, as the look of determined fear in her eyes in the memory of when he’d bitten her.   
  
“Because it wasn’ you. It was someone else wearin’ your body. Like with Cassandra, only more dangerous.” Rose saw and felt the Doctor warring with himself over whether he should let himself hold her. “‘M not scared or angry, Doctor. You’re you again, ‘nd we have to move forward.” She grabbed his arms, pulling them around her before wrapping her arms around his back. “Now hug me like you always do when one of us almost dies.” She felt his love for her win over the guilt, and she buried her face in his shoulder as he squeezed her tightly, almost picking her up. “This, I needed this so much.”   
  
“Me too.” The Doctor held Rose to him, letting her unconditional love fill his mind. He knew he would be blaming himself for a long time, but he also knew he was always going to let her drag him out of it. “At least I still managed to keep you safe, all be it in a roundabout tangled way.” Her giggle was like a balm, easing his hearts when she pulled back to kiss his cheek. He finally had all the memories from his younger incarnation’s point of view, and they were absolutely brilliant.   
  
“Yeah you did.” Rose caught a glimpse of a memory from him, and it made her cheeks flush. It was a sweet memory, nothing salacious, just her snuggled down in the blankets using his stomach as a pillow. “It was interesting, seeing how you were before, but this right here, ‘nd all of your future is where I belong.” For the first time since their bonding, she felt a flicker of doubt from him, thick with the guilt. “Stop tha’.” She reached out through the bond, in an attempt to wash it away.   
  
“Can’t help it. Old habits.” The Doctor kissed Rose’s brow before pulling back. Another memory was coming up now, of his younger self reading an article on the Hades Company. “We forgot to go report the experiments!” He clung to the distraction, the urgency of the new mission in that old familiar way he had before Rose. “Hades headquarters, on the fourth moon a Yalrata Major!” He released her to dash around the console, typing in the coordinates, as she leaned against a rail and beamed her usual, adventure smile. Rose could pilot the TARDIS now, but she always let him do it solo, claiming it was far more amusing.   
  
Rose watched, preparing to grab onto the rail or console once flight began, knowing all too well that the conversation was far from over. She knew the Doctor, almost as thoroughly as he knew himself, and it was going to take months before he would save enough people or stop enough bad guys to consider himself atoned. “When we get back, ‘m gonna need new sonic sunglasses!” She called over the roar of the engines powering up.  
  
“Why can’t you just use a screwdriver, like me?!”   
  
“Because sunglasses never get confiscated as possible weapons!” She retorted, grabbing onto the rail as the TARDIS began to jerk and sway. “You weren’ complainin’ on Alfasantraxis last month when I told the police they were prescriptions, ‘nd confiscating them violated intergalactic prisoner law by deprivin’ me of my ability to see!”   
  
“Fine! I’ll make you some new ones!” The Doctor staggered around, to feed the engines more fuel. “Almost there!” He was thrown back as the TARDIS landed, and he let Rose’s manic laughter draw his out when she stumbled over to him. “Now, let’s go report some criminals!” Grabbing her hand, he yanked her out the door and stumbled to a stop when he found himself face to barrel with six armed security officers. “Oh hello! We come in peace!”   
  
“Hey boys, ‘s not polite to point a weapon at an unarmed lady.” Rose reached into her back pocket to yank out her psychic paper, knowing full well if the Doctor reached into his inner pocket they’d likely get stun blasted. “About my partner landin’ in your-“ She found the sign on the wall. “Chief Warden’s conference room, this should clear it up.” She flipped open the pink leather and beamed.   
  
“Shadow Proclamation internal affairs agents?” One of the green skinned men squinted and called out. The Doctor reminded himself to kiss Rose for her quick response.   
  
“Lower your weapons!” An older, humanoid man with actually yellow skin and shock white hair called from the back. His pristine uniform gave him a sharp, well mannered look that reminded the Doctor slightly of the Brigadier. “I apologize, but usually you make appointments, or you check in at the security desk. I’m Commandant Kloquilla.” His teal eyes flicked between their faces. “Where’s your uniforms?”   
  
“We’re undercover agents.” Rose slipped her psychic paper away, while the Doctor stepped forward. “In fact, we’ve just been to pay a visit to your prison camp on Sol Nine.” She had long since learned that her native solar system’s planets were numbered, except for Mars, Earth, and Saturn, as they were the only ones that had held native species. Well, Saturn itself didn’t but there was a slowly developing species similar to neanderthals on Titan. “Which we need to discuss, Commandant.”    
  
“This way.”   
  
“Good job boys.” Rose slapped one of the guards on the shoulder as she followed the Doctor and the Commandant into a nearby office. “So, are you aware tha’ some of your prison camps are experimentin’ on the inmates?”   
  
“Experiments on inmates are against company and galactic policy. Is that what happened on Sol nine?” The Commandant asked, gesturing to the chairs across from him. Rose crossed her arms, leaning on one to watch the Doctor give his ‘you really suck at keeping your people in check’ glower and produced a thumbdrive looking device.  
  
“They were experimenting with dna from the Great Vampires and trying to sell the inmates as slave soldiers. See for yourself.” Without waiting for permission, the Doctor docked the infodrive into the Commandant’s computer and buzzed it with his sonic. “The experiments murdered every guard, inmate, and scientist then took a ship to Earth, where they tried to convert the human natives.”  
The Commandants face paled to a butter color as he leaned forward. “Earth is a fully established level five planet, which just so happens to be under our-“ he gestured to himself and Rose with a warning scowl. “Protection. You need to launch an official investigation into your prison camps, or we will.”   
  
The Doctor watched intently as the Commandant scrolled through the data he’d collected on Pluto and Earth, his jaw clenching and unclenching. The man blew out a breath, before leaning back and arching his white brow. “These don’t have the Shadow Proclamation encryption signatures, but they do have the Hades’ security identifiers.” Rose snorted beside him, making him smirk. “How did you come to find this? How did you stop them? Who are you two?  
  
Rose took the Doctor’s hand, as he looked down at her a smiled. “Commandant, you’re gonna be asking yourself that for the rest of your life. Sorry” She gave the Commandant one more smile before the Doctor took her hand and led her back to the TARDIS. The doors had barely closed before the knocking began.   
  
“Investigation started. Planet Earth saved. What’s next?” She skipped to the console, knowing full well pressuring him to talk would be futile. The Doctor was already at the console, in his usual haphazard dance.   
  
“I could use a bath, and some proper food. The Brigadier always made a good cuppa and had the best whiskey, but his tastes in sandwiches were never that great.” Normally, the Doctor would want to drag them off to another adventure, but being apart from his wife and then having to share her with, well, himself was something he needed to fix.  
  
“I’ll head to the galley then!” Rose started to stagger towards the corridor, using the rails to keep her upright in the jerky flight. That was not what he had in mind.  
  
“Don’t wanna join me in the bath?” Just as he knew it would, his question made Rose pause and beam at him. “That’s what I thought!” He snickered as she threw her jacket at him and took off at a stumbling run towards the other corridor that held their room. He caught it, just as the TARDIS stilled and hummed that they were parked. Then he went after her.  
  



	14. Together Forever

“Doctor, love, there’s nothing to forgive.” Rose pulled his arms around her, ignoring the water that sloshed up over their way too full bubble bath. She preferred bath bombs or oils, but he liked the bubbles, so tonight she made sure it was as bubbly as possible. “Absolutely nothin’, nada, zip. What happened wasn’t you, ‘nd ‘m never gonna think it was. You don’t have to feel guilty.”    
  
“I’m not.” The Doctor sighed as he hooked his ankles over her calves and pressed his nose into Rose’s damp hair. She squeezed his hand and made a disagreeing noise, and he remembered it was impossible to lie to her since they were bonded. “Okay, so I do, and you know why.” It wasn’t just the time he spent as Emyr, so much as it was just another universal fuck up to add to his debt to the cosmos. “I didn’t kill anyone, but I did destroy Vera’s mind and order her to be disposed of.”   
  
“No, you didn’t. Emyr did.” Rose leaned her head back into the Doctor’s shoulder and turned her head to kiss his jaw softly. “I need you to stop punishin’ yourself for things out of your control.” Reaching up with one hand, she stroked his cheek tenderly, needing to quell the internal struggle she could feel across the bond. “You don’ let me wallow in things I feel guilty about that were out of my control, ‘nd I refuse to let you.”    
  
“Rose, what could you feel guilty about? Obliteratin’ the daleks? Lyin’ to your mum about bein’ practically immortal now?” The Doctor pressed a soft kiss into Rose’s palm, pulling her even closer to him in the hot water. He didn’t understand why, but from the very beginning, the moment he saw her face in that basement, she had been an instant balm to his guilt. Her hand in his, her hugs, and now her soft kisses and soothing waves of thoughts held something he didn’t have a description for, like a man on death row being told he’d been exonerated of all crimes. “You haven’ lived long enough-“    
  
“Jack.” Rose murmured, feeling her chest tighten as she dropped her hand and looked down at the bubbles. She avoided talking about her former best friend, avoided thinking about him as much as possible, since the Doctor had explained why he’d left him on the Gamestation, why they couldn’t go back for him.   
  
“Rose-“    
  
“Doctor, I turned him into a fixed point, without his consent. He didn’t choose it, didn’ ask for it, ‘nd he’s gonna go through it alone.” She blew out a breath, popping one particularly large bubble with a finger, and let her husband feel how deeply it affected her. “I was selfish, ‘nd now-“    
  
“Sweetheart, that wasn’t you. That was Bad Wolf, before you learned to control her. You kno-“ The Doctor cut himself off as he realized what he was saying. The very excuse he had prepared to give her when she finally admitted she felt guilty over changing him and not just leaving him. “And, I’m not practicing what I’m preaching, am I?” He blew out a heavy breath as Rose turned in his lap and draped her arms over his shoulders. Those melted amber and honey eyes were so sweet and soft as she kissed his forehead.    
  
“Doctor, you can’ carry this guilt. You barely cope with the guilt from the Time War. You have to let this go.” Rose held her husband’s gaze, trying to get him to realize that for once, she was the one making sense. “Please, just this once, acknowledge that this was beyond your control.” The Doctor’s eyes closed for a moment, and, finally, he nodded and rested his head against her shoulder. It was a sensation she’d come to know well, him surrendering his pain for the feeling of acceptance she gave him unconditionally. “I’m here, Doctor, ‘nd ‘m never leaving you.” Rose hugged him tightly, stroking the back of his hair until he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her bare skin. Peace was wafting across the bond from his end, and she knew be had forgiven himself.    
  
“You always know how to save me.” The Doctor breathed in the scent of Rose, giving in to the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. Sometimes, it still surprised him, when he woke up from nightmares of the war or past losses to her sleepy eyes and soft kisses. “I love you, Rose Tyler.” He lifted his face to meet her eyes, and the love there was intoxicating. It erased everything outside of the TARDIS, muted the universe, as if they were the only two beings in existence.    
  
“I love you.” The three words were followed by his true name, and her fingers trailed down his chest. This was one change he didn’t think he’d ever get used to, in the best way, how their most harrowing adventures had turned from tight hugs in the console room to skin on skin caressing and lingering kisses. She shifted on his lap, straddling him now, as her fingers slipped down his skin under the water. “I need you.” He hissed in pleasure when her soft fingers brushed the base of his length, making him stir.    
  
“I need you more.” Rose whimpered as the Doctor slid a hand up her back to tangle it in her hair and pull her lips to his. As always, the passion and intensity behind his kiss dazzled her, and she rocked herself against him, groaning into his tongue when his hard length parted her folds. “Right here.” She barely had time to respond before he had her perched on the edge of the smooth, stone seat he’d been reclining in, and was pulling her legs around his waist as he knelt and leaned over her.    
  
“I wanted to be on top.” Rose tried to protest, but the Doctor cut her off with another fiery kiss. She plunged her hand into his hair, chasing his tongue with her own, and locked her ankles around his lithe hips. The Doctor broke this kiss, but his response was simply to close his lips over her right breast, and Rose groaned in delight. “So good. More!” She arched into him as he rocked his hard length against her again, squeezing her thigh tightly. Then, with a groan into her breast, he slid into her in one smooth, fast, thrust. “Doctor! Yes!”    
  
Rose scrambled for purchased on his water slicked skin. This angle made his fit tight, stretching and filling her in a way being in the bed, sofa, or bent over the console did not. It curved him up, hitting her in ways only his fingers ever did. She keened out in approval, as he thrust in again. “This makes you so tight.” He grunted into her breast, before flicking his tongue across her nipple and shooting ecstasy down her spine. “Think I’ve found my new favorite place to have you.” He pulled back again, lifting his lips to hers, and their groans mingled when he rocked into her faster, harder.   
  
“Me too.” Rose’s voice was thick and strained with pleasure, and the Doctor loved how his movements caused her to make the most delightful noises. He was oblivious to the water splashing out of the tub, as he braced a hand beside her head. All he could focus on was Rose, how the position squeezed her around him, as tightly as the first time he’d had her, wild and frantic in a pile of furs in the wardrobe. This position let him feel all of her, let her take him deep, and their combined pleasure in their bond was everything he needed. She was rocking up to meet him, and he groaned when her nails bit into his shoulder as she mewled. “Jus’ like-fuck- that!”    
  
The Doctor made to slide his hand from her thigh between them, but Rose stopped him. “Don’... mmm... need...this... perfect.” Her words came out in breathy cries in time to his thrusts, and he realized their angled position was rubbing her perfectly against him. So he grabbed her hip instead, keeping her in that position and lost himself to her body and thoughts. He could feel her climax building, sizzling over the bond as she fisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his lips to hers.    
  
Rose exploded, as the Doctor’s persistent, determined thrusts sent her careening over the edge. They’d made love almost every day, most times more than once, since their first time, but never had she come without any additional stimulation, and she’d never felt anything so intense. Her vision went white, as her respiratory bypass kicked in. She felt the artron energy in her blood spark and sizzle, electrifying her skin. The Doctor cried out, and she could feel it vibrate against her chest though her roaring pulse drowned it out. His climax crashed over the bond, milliseconds before his thrusts stuttered and stilled, and she shivered reflexively as his cool release filled her. Vaguely, she swore she heard bells.    
  
The Doctor felt his cry of completion bubble into a laugh of wonder as he drank in the vision beneath and around him. Rose’s orgasm had come on quick, and he’d never felt one so intense, not just from their bond or her body. This one was insanely powerful. The round lights in the walls surged bright white, deep in the TARDIS tinkling bells rang out, and his wife had literally howled while sparking the gold artron energy from her eyes, before they closed, and fingers as she went wild under him. She gasped in a breath, giving a wild giggle, and a row of lights on the far wall exploded in a cloud of golden dust. “Rose, love...” he managed to whisper, as their joined pleasure made his mind go blank. Gently, he lowered her legs and slipped from her with a hiss.    
  
“Doctor, that was.... mmmm.... amazing.” He smiled in adoration when she pulled him down from a languid kiss. Finally, she opened her satisfaction ladened eyes and preened in the half gone water. “I mean every time is amazin’, but that was-“ He knew the instant she saw the golden dust and glass on the floor on the other side of the room. “What happened?”    
  
“You sorta broke them and set the cloisters crazy when you came.” Rose felt her cheeks flush in surprise as the Doctor rocked back to sit on his heels and pulled her upright. She could hear and feel the cloister bells fading into silence. The TARDIS poked her mind, a bit indignantly, sending images of disarrayed cabinets in the galley and more broken lights in the corridors. “It was beautiful. Wanna try again, in the bedroom?” She yipped as he staggered to his feet, pulling her with. He was always so giddy after one round, whereas her legs always felt like jelly.    
  
“Maybe we should clean up first.” The Doctor scooped Rose into his arms as she spoke, only realizing there was a massive puddle of bubbles and water circling the tub. “And the galley, and the main corridors. I think I made one helluva a mess.” He was confused until he finally registered the TARDIS sending them a series of images everywhere their mutually explosive climaxes has left the ship in disarray.     
  
“Later. I plan on making you come like that again!” The Doctor’s laugh made Rose giggle, as she found he had completely forgotten about what had led to this moment. “To bed, wife!” He took a step, and then the lights all went out with a loud, annoyed hum from the TARDIS. “Hey!”   
  
“Clean first, before she turns the atmospheric controls down to freezing like she did last week when we were arguing over you wearing the tux to cousin Mo’s wedding.” Rose wriggled until her husband carefully lowered her to the floor. Then she reached out to stroke his cheek in the dark. “Then we can break in the galley table while dinner’s cookin’.”    
  
“I’ll get a mop!” The Doctor exclaimed in excitement as the lights flickered back on. Rose watched him grab a towel as he rushed from the ensuite. She snagged one for herself and patted the wall affectionately. As much has she had enjoyed making love to and being with his younger self, this was the Doctor Rose loved most, and she wouldn’t change a thing about him.    
  
  



End file.
